Lover Reincarnated
by glowingbadger
Summary: Byleth keeps living this life, from dreams of Sothis until long past the end of the war. But some things do change, and in each lifetime, she finds comfort in the arms of a new lover.
1. Confidant - Linhardt

Byleth couldn't speak for all possible lifetimes, but of the ones she had seen thus far, there were certain things that she simply could not change. Each story began with Sothis. The war would come, no matter what. Her father would be killed, inevitably. How many times had she lived this life? By the time she'd accepted all of these unmoving truths, she had stopped counting. One thing did change, though. One very important thing. Every time the cycle began anew, her choices varied, and Byleth became a new version of herself. Her soul changed. Her love changed.

This small consolation- the people she would spend each of her lives with- varied, all charming in exciting and unique ways -was one of the only things that helped her cope. There were other positive factors, of course. While she could not keep Jeralt alive, she knew by now that, as long as she could conjure the tears to her eyes when he needed to see them, he would pass with a smile on his face. Then, she would wait, and some day, Byleth would be with her father again in her next life. In a myriad of similar ways, her endless cycle of rebirth was full of blessings and curses.

Today, these thoughts weighed uncharacteristically heavily on the professor's mind, making an especially lovely day at the monastery feel overcast. It was warm out, and a gentle breeze lightened the air around her, but her pleasant surroundings did not alleviate the burden of her thoughts. She wasn't particularly in the mood to socialize, but didn't want to be alone either. After all, her ever evolving bonds with her comrades were the main saving grace of endlessly reincarnating. Perhaps this was why, before she knew it, Byleth found her feet taking her towards Linhardt's room.

Linhardt was endlessly curious, which meant he was also unusually open minded. In all likelihood, this was why she had been spending so much time with him in this life. Being around him was calming, and perhaps exactly what she needed at a time like this. Maybe, just maybe, Byleth could finally tell someone about her unique circumstances, free of the fear of their reaction.

Byleth knocked when she arrived at his room, but knew from experience that he was unlikely to answer. The next step was to let herself in, and find something in one of his towering book piles to flip through until he woke up. Fully prepared to do just that, she slipped into his room, kicked off her boots inside, and closed the door behind her. Her strange mood must be to blame for her breach of routine. Instead of settling in with a book, she came to sit next to Linhardt at the edge of his bed. Given the warmer early summer temperatures, he was lightly dressed in only his white, high-collared shirt and usual pants, and had forgone bedsheets.

On looking closer, the neckline of his shirt was unbuttoned, carelessly relaxed around his neck and collarbones. Loose bangs had strayed across his forehead and long eyelashes fluttered with his sleeping eye movements. Byleth smiled- a private, quiet smile. Linhardt was beautiful.

As she watched, allowing his even breathing to soothe her, she eventually noticed him begin to stir. She felt a twinge of guilt for waking him, but knew that if he wasn't done sleeping, he would simply roll over and resume his nap.

Blindly and unconsciously, his hands fumbled across the bed. Byleth held in a snort of laughter. What was he dreaming of that had him grasping around like that? It became harder to hold in her amusement when his hands found her arm and grabbed onto it with force like Lindhardt hardly applied to anything. But then, he pulled, and Byleth went down onto the bed beside him. Laying half atop the sleeping man, she opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted.

"Warm…" he muttered, by all appearances still fully asleep, and his arms now squeezed around her waist. Byleth's face burned crimson, and she finally put her thoughts together enough to protest aloud,

"Linhardt! Wake up- and, and let go of- ugh!"

"Hn…" at long last, his eyes began to open, and groggily met hers, "Professor? What are you doing here? I am awake now, right?"

Byleth sputtered, trying to find somewhere to put her hands that wasn't directly on his body at this close range.

"Well, I had come to, to talk to you at first! But- as you can see, now I'm here, and-"

"Oh!" Linhardt spoke with confidence, "so you wanted to sleep with me, is that it?"

"Sleep… sleep with…?" Byleth's eyes widened. What a brazen overture! It wasn't that she had never considered it with him- Linhardt was plenty attractive, and they had gotten quite close during this lifetime. But to be so forward about it…

"Well then, if you're comfortable, goodnight." With his arms still around her, he turned toward Byleth on his side, nestled against his pillow, and closed his eyes. Left baffled and speechless, she stared at his lovely features and tried to process what had just happened. What she had come to speak to him about had all but left her mind, and not even his slow, steady breathing could tame her racing mind. He hadn't released her from his arms, but she did her best not to lean too far into him, not to let their bodies touch too intimately. At this close range, she noticed for the first time that he carried the scent of the monastery's library with him. Then, Byleth just barely caught the corner of his mouth curling up before his eyes opened once more.

"I'm just joking with you, professor, don't look so disappointed. Even I'm not that obtuse," and with that, he closed the scarce inches between them and brushed his lips to hers. Just like she'd dared to imagine a few times before, his lips were soft and smooth, his movements subtle and curious. He lingered for a few silent but thrilling seconds, exploring her lips gently with his own. When he pulled away, Byleth saw his self-satisfied grin and prodded him in the gut with pointed finger,

"You are astonishingly confident- some might even say arrogant."

"Come now, you know me better than that. When have I ever cared about what 'some might even say'? Besides," he went on, reaching up a hand to trace his finger across her bottom lip, "we both know that you're much stronger than I. If you'd wanted, you could have pulled out of my arms. You didn't, so I figured you were enjoying yourself."

"Reasonable, if not flawless logic." she grumbled, though her hands betrayed her feelings, coming to rest on Linhardt's chest. Through the light fabric of his shirt, she could feel him, smooth and warm to her touch, his heartbeat steady even now. That wasn't fair even in the slightest. Byleth moved to the offensive, and kissed him, hard.

The professor smiled into him at her victory; she felt his chest rise with a silent gasp of breath as she parted his lips with her tongue. His hold around her tightened, his heart thudding beneath Byleth's touch. Even still, his analytical mind quickly caught up to the movements of her tongue, and he returned them expertly. She wondered distantly whether he had any idea how desirable he was; how, despite his eccentricities, half of the monastery had confessed to finding him beautiful, and how effortlessly his kiss warmed her through and made her crave more.

The two slowly parted, just enough for Linhardt's cat-like eyes to search her face for the answer to some unspoken riddle.

"How strange…" he murmured, and brought a hand to brush her hair behind her ear, fondly caressing her cheek along the way. Byleth knew by now to simply let him process, then speak. Prying into his brilliant mind preemptively rarely yielded the expected or desired results. Instead, she leaned into his touch, allowing herself this time to enjoy his delicate fingertips grazing her neck, jawline and ear in turn. Finally, he said,

"I suppose arousal could be considered a type of motivation."

"Pardon?" she replied with a short laugh.

"Well, I feel quite awake, and quite… let's say 'motivated'," he clarified, "I imagine that's because I desire you- rather strongly, at that." Despite how her face flushed red, Byleth tried to affect confidence,

"I wasn't quite sure you even had desires like that."

"Of course I do," Linhardt's fingertips moved back toward her lips, playing lightly across them as he spoke, "Pursuing desires is generally just too much trouble to bother with. But you've never felt like trouble at all. Perhaps that's why I desire you so deeply…"

As if on cue, this was the moment when Byleth noticed a certain pressure against her thigh, which she hadn't quite noticed had been resting between his legs. With a rush of excitement, she realized that he was growing and stiffening against her, and she bit her lip eagerly. She placed another kiss on his soft lips- this one quick, but heated, then said,

"I'm eager to see what you can do when feeling so uniquely energetic."

His expression was oddly serious, his eyes half-lidded as he glanced at her lips that had only just left his. After a short pause, he said softly,

"Turn around for me and I'll show you."

Linhardt guided her as she obediently turned from him, laying on her side with his chest pressed along her back. Gentle fingers brushed her hair from her neck, and she gave a short squeak of pleasure, feeling his lips just below her jawline from behind. Then, his hand at her hips urged her to shift back towards him. Just as he'd said, Byleth was considerably stronger than he, but somehow, with light and delicate touches, he directed her body with ease. Her backside nestled comfortably against his partially erect member, and she stifled a moan at the feeling of him gradually hardening for her.

Painstakingly, his hands began to explore the beautiful body of the woman in his arms. His nose and lips nuzzled into the side of her neck, his breath teasing her skin as he enjoyed her warmth and her scent. Careful hands traveled the swell of her hip, the dip into her waist, and her rather impressive breasts. Linhardt took his time with these in particular, kneading and massaging them, working his way inward toward her nipples that, even through her shirt, stiffened to his touch. She gasped in reply as his fingertips circled and toyed with the hardened nubs, and she bit her lip to stifle her voice.

"You can moan for me, Byleth," he said as he placed another kiss on her neck, this one punctuated by a playful bite..

"It's… nng…" she attempted a response, but his fingers at her achingly vulnerable nipples forced her to concentrate on keeping her voice down. To add to this, it wouldn't be the first time Linhardt referred to her by name, but in this context, it sounded new and transgressive, flooding her lower body with heat. She made a second attempt, murmuring,

"It's embarrassing…"  
"Suit yourself," Linhardt replied conversationally. The arm wrapped under her body kept one hand at her breasts, allowing it to absent-mindedly caress and toy with them at his leisure. Meanwhile, the other hand slid down the curving contour of Byleth's body. His pleasant sigh tickled her face and neck, and she shivered subtly against him. His hand reached the hem of her shorts and tights, and he snuck the very tips of his fingers beneath the fabric.

"May I?" he whispered into the back of her neck.

"Mm… Mhmm…" Byleth nodded, and subconsciously pressed her ass more firmly against his length. She felt his breath, hot and perhaps just a little impatient despite himself, as his hand slipped into her clothing and between her legs. The agonizingly slow and meticulous way he moved had her trembling with need before he even touched her directly. When he finally did, it was like a shock up through her core. A single finger parted her lower lips and slid downward until it ran along her wet and swollen clit, rubbing it from front to back firmly and slowly.

"Haa-!" Byleth cried out, and her body arched against him. She felt the brush of a silent laugh along her neck, then a gentle kiss where his breath had warmed her.

"See? That's exactly why you shouldn't be so shy about your voice," he spoke even as his fingers continued to play with her stiff, sensitive bud, stroking and circling it as she became ever wetter and his cock throbbed conspicuously against her body, "Can't you feel how much it turns me on?"

This smart-ass. Still, she couldn't deny that she adored the feeling of his arousal pressed against her, sometimes rubbing into her or throbbing with his appreciation for her body. All the while, his hands researched her thoroughly. Soon, he'd discovered that gently squeezing and tugging at her nipples was most effective when he gave her time without the sensation so that she never became too accustomed to it. On the other hand, the more consistently he stroked and played with her clit, the more he felt her fluids coat his hand and her moans became harder and harder to restrain.

"Mmmm… Lin… Linhardt…" she whimpered into his pillow, biting her lip in her efforts to stave off her climax, to last just a few pleasurable moments longer. His own groan vibrated along her sensitive skin, brushing stray strands of hair from her shoulder.

"I bet I could make you cum right now," he whispered, "But if I do, you have to promise you'll cry out my name. Sound fair?"

Byleth couldn't muster a response amidst her soft gasps and whines of pleasure. Linhardt took this as a favorable sign. Moving with purpose, he positioned his ring and forefinger tightly around her swollen clit, applying just enough pressure to build an anxious bundle of pleasure in her gut. Then, his middle finger found its mark, rubbing tight, firm circles across the nub. With a sharp gasp, her body shuddered and tensed, and he knew she was close.

"Promise…?" he murmured into her ear. Finally, her willpower began to fracture.

"Ye… Yes! Please, Linhardt-!"

Her hand reached back and found the side of his face, and her fingers tangled into smooth locks of dark green hair. Holding him close as his fingers increased their pace, Byleth finally allowed herself to moan for him, her voice higher as her orgasm rapidly built. Apparently pleased with this development, he began to thrust his hips against her, pushing his cock rhythmically against her plump backside. This motion pressed her body back against his hand, and soon enough, his fingers' expert movements on her aching, throbbing clit caused her to come undone all at once. Tilting her head back toward him, Byleth gasped out his name- once, then louder again, as her legs shook and her orgasm rushed through her body. The moment he sensed her climax, Linhardt's hand shifted, and he pushed two digits just barely inside of her entrance. He let out a low groan, feeling her hole twitch and tighten, then release around his fingertips. By now, he was so hard it was distracting and more than a little uncomfortable. It was bizarre, wanting something so badly and immediately, and he found himself eager for what was to come.

"I bet that will feel wonderful…" he mused, then nipped once at the outer shell of Byleth's ear. With a submissive little whine, she shivered, still recovering from her climax.

"What… what will...?"

"The way you tighten up when you cum, of course."

Before she could reply, his hand was back at the hem of her shorts, lazily tugging down on them. She generously took over the task of sliding these down along with her tights and underwear, but she only got them to mid-thigh when she felt Linhardt shift behind her. It seemed he was working on his own clothing, but this didn't prepare her for the sudden feeling of his member, hot and stiff, pressing between her thighs. With his usual gentle touch, he urged her hands away from the clothing that restricted her legs and pushed her soft, thick thighs together. Byleth gradually began to understand what he wanted, and the lewd idea made her lower body ache. With the remainder of her cum on his fingers and a little saliva, he slickened the shaft of his cock and slowly pushed it between her thighs, sandwiching it tightly between her curves.

Linhardt moaned contentedly, a sound not unlike some she'd heard him make in his sleep before. No, perhaps it was a little different- this moan was to her, for her. With slow but firm thrusts, he enjoyed the feeling of her flesh around him, squeezing his full length over and over. All the while, Byleth felt an urgency building in her- the need for him stronger than ever. Each time his long, hardened rod pushed between her thighs, she felt the pressure of him dragging along her lower lips. Each time, her mind pleaded with him to enter her, to fill her up and satisfy her. Soon enough, she felt his teasing words in her ear,

"Mmm… I could probably cum like this, you know," he said as he held her tight around her waist, "but something tells me that's not enough for you, is it?"

With his next thrust, the head of his cock finally pushed between her folds, but wouldn't quite enter her. Byleth whimpered, arching against him,

"Lin.. pleeease…!"

She could hear the smirk he wore when he replied,

"Of course, of course, I don't mean to be cruel to you," he nipped at the nape of her neck, "why don't you go ahead and finish taking these off?"

He casually tugged at the band of her shorts, and Byleth happily granted his request. Her hands trembled subtly, making her task a little awkward, but soon enough she dropped her lower layers to the floor beside the bed. The moment she had, Linhardt wordlessly ran his free hand down the side of her thigh. As always, her body was a fascinating new subject for him, but for the moment, he had a goal in mind. His hands soft and gentle as ever, he directed her leg up and back, slung over his hip so he could enter her from behind. Thanks to his height, he was able to position the head of his cock at her entrance from below without ever moving his lips from the soothing haven of her neck, her shoulders, the pale green locks that bore her intoxicating scent. Nestling his face into her hair carelessly spilled across his pillow, Linhardt brought both hands to her hips and slowly began to push his tip into her.

His low, sensuous groan of pleasure harmonized with Byleth's breathless whimper as his length burrowed into her. She was tight, her insides squeezing around him and resisting him with every inch deeper that he reached. The moment he was inside her, Linhardt began slowly rocking his hips back and forth, massaging his length further in into her, gradually molding her body around his shape. Soon, both he and his former teacher were panting, breath hot and needy. His kisses along the back of her neck and down to her shoulder had become more insistent, even marking her fair skin in a few scattered spots. This desperate ache, the way this pleasure compelled him to seek out more, was entirely strange to him. He was no blushing virgin, though previous paramours had been little more than passing curiosities. But Byleth, as she let her body lean into him, welcomed each thrust of his manhood yet still stifled her voice- she was different. She was entrancing. Perhaps it was not so unlike when he found himself seized by a fascinating book. If that were the case, then he knew he would not be satisfied until he had explored every inch of her, heard every pleading sound her lips could utter, and memorized every tender sweet spot on her body.

Byleth's face flushed with arousal and her body burned with the tension already building once more in her core. As it turned out, Linhardt pursued love-making the same way he pursued his studies; he was thorough, attending to every sensitive nerve of hers that he could find, all while testing the depth and pacing of his thrusts until their bodies fell into a steady and intensely pleasurable rhythm. Each time his cockhead rubbed along her inner walls, plowing into her deepest point, she edged closer to release. Soon, she could no longer deny the cries and moans he forced out of her, and letting out her voice in full only spurred Linhardt on.

"Mmm… yeess, professor…" he groaned lustily against her neck as he slid a delicate hand down along her abdomen once more, "come on… let me feel it…"

Calling her by name had felt intimate, but as he bucked his hips against her and filled her over and over, "professor" somehow sounded even more lewd.

_Goddess, Lin, please don't give me that particular fetish-_

Byleth hardly registered the thought before a sharp jolt of pleasure caused her to gasp aloud, squirming in his arms. Skillful fingers had effortlessly found her clitoris once more, and unabashedly began to toy with it. His touch was firmer now, stroking and circling her soaked clit even as his cock still pushed into her. She bit down on her lip, but ultimately her panting gasps of breath forced their way out. With a single finger, Linhardt flicked along the stiff little bud, and the moment he felt her shudder against him, he doubled down. She was so close. His heart fluttered eagerly with the thrill of knowing he would feel her climax soon. He just had to push her a little further.

"Professor, please…" he moaned into her ear, then grazed his teeth along the outer shell. Something in her voice changed pitch. Her movements became tense.

It was too much- Linhardt was too much. The skin of her neck tingled at his breath. His hand at her breasts, the other expertly stroking between her legs both sent waves of pleasure through her in every direction. Her pussy clenched around him, clinging to his cock, but he never eased his thrusts. Byleth sighed out his name in a voice she hardly recognized, and at long last, felt herself coming undone. She shivered, arching into him as she tightened and released repeatedly around his member, her body wracked with pleasure. To her surprise, her climax seemed to immediately send her lover over the edge. Her legs had begun to instinctively draw inward, but Linhardt grabbed her thigh with a strength she'd never seen him exhibit, holding her legs open as he thrust deeper into her than ever.

With an unrestrained cry, he let the feeling of Byleth squeezing and pulsing around him bring him to his climax. Holding her firmly against him, he began to release into her. Groaning through his teeth, still rubbing his swelling, twitching cock against her inside, Linhardt felt nearly dizzy with the ecstasy of the most powerful orgasm he could recall experiencing. His lips hung open and his hands pawed at any part of her that they found. Finally, by the time this rush of pleasure began to subside, he had poured every drop of his cum into her, even spilling some out onto her inner thigh.

His satisfied sigh brushed errant strands of pale hair against Byleth's cheek. Though his heat still warmed her at her core, she felt her burning body begin to relax, as his grip on her leg and hips eased and he slowly pulled out of her. It gradually dawned on her just how full she felt even after his member slid out from between her thighs. Eyebrows raised, she murmured in amazement,

"Oh… uh, wow…"

Wordlessly, Linhardt's hand at her shoulder instructed her to turn towards him, and she obliged. He kissed her, comfortably this time, free of the anxious energy of new discoveries and instead tender and familiar. Barely parting, resting on his pillow close enough for their noses to lightly brush now and then, the pair's eyes met for the first time since this pleasurable encounter began. His smile lacked its usual bemused cynicism. He looked at peace, angelic- an expression she almost never saw on him when conscious.

The pair took their time catching their breath. It ought to be close to dinner now, but it didn't occur to either of them to pull apart from one another. Instead, they enjoyed the quiet for some time until Linhardt spoke at last,

"Now then," he said, drawing her closer by the waist, "what exactly was it that you came here to speak to me about?"

Byleth's mind took a moment to catch up. Once it had, she gave a short, snorting laugh and covered her face with a hand. That's right- the whole reason she'd come to his room to begin with. She had to admit, she was surprised he remembered so readily.

"I'm afraid it's terribly unromantic, all things told." she said with a grin. Linhardt stretched himself out along the length of his bed, yawning, and when he settled back in with his arm around her once more, he said,

"Well I've always found traditional romantic notions to be painfully tedious, so by all means- I would much rather simply hear what's on your mind."

Byleth was nervous. She didn't feel that way often, but of course she was now- she was about to make an impossible claim. But his warm smile and his steady breath helped to calm her, and his words soothed her. He wanted to hear what was on her mind. Perhaps, in this life-cycle, when her thoughts had begun to erode her ability to tolerate her endless rebirth, Linhardt was exactly who she needed by her side.

"Okay, welI," she began tentatively, "I have been living in a sort of… continuous reincarnation cycle. I have lived this period of my life- from beginning as a teacher here, through the war, and sometimes after. Eventually, one cycle ends, and the next begins, and once again, I'm waking up to my father readying me for a day's mercenary work," Byleth could already see the questions formulating in his lavender eyes, but went on, "I don't recall every detail of every life I've lived, or even how many times I've reincarnated by now. Some things are different every lifetime, and others are the same, and I just," she paused, took a breath, and met his eyes with an almost childlike look in her own, "I need to be able to talk to someone. I thought you, out of anyone, would believe me."

When she finished, she watched him expectantly, but only saw a single eyebrow arch the slightest bit upward. He was silent for a few anxious seconds, then finally said,

"You know that's technically not what reincarnating is, right?"

"I… what?"

"If you were reincarnating, you would be a different person, or different life form in each cycle. Though perhaps I'm being pedantic," he kissed her forehead gently, "I do believe you."

Byleth let out a heavy breath and smiled at Linhardt with a new, airy sort of relief. She curled in closer to him and rested her hands on his chest between them.

"Thank you, Lin," she said softly, "This is the first time I've ever told someone- in any of my lives. Well, that I remember, anyway."

"I'm flattered," he replied, "though, as you can imagine, I now find myself with an ever growing multitude of questions for you- I hope the rest of your day is free? We can talk about your circumstances, theorize a bit, and…" slender fingers combed her hair behind her ear as his eyes scanned her and his voice dipped down, "well, anything else we find ourselves in the mood for, really."

Byleth gladly explained her full situation- that she felt herself change in each lifetime, and so in a way, each was unique. That she had tried and failed to alter certain events, and so in some ways, each was the same. The cycle began with her dreams of the girl on the throne. The cycle ended with the death of a person she chose to spend her life with. As she watched her lover's one and only life fade, with years, decades of memories of them to carry with her, she looked forward into her new beginning. In a way, it was a blessing; she would not live out her supernaturally extended life in mourning of a partner long passed. When she spoke of this detail, she saw something indecipherable in Linhardt's gaze. As usual, she decided she would not press him. Not until he was ready.

Their day together was long, but pleasant. Even on this first day together in this fashion, Byleth sensed that there could be many more to follow. As her lifetimes continued, she would periodically return to Linhardt. When the strain of her existence wore on her, when she needed someone to fully and truly understand, he was there. She would tell him once again of her circumstances, and once again find solace in his wandering and ever-open mind.


	2. Rival - Felix

Living a life repeatedly could be exhausting. It could be dull. At worst, it could be maddening. Living Byleth's inevitably war-torn life could wear on the psyche in a host of unique ways- ways that she did her best to stamp out as soon as she noticed them creeping around the darker corners of her mind. Absence of purpose, absence of drive, absence of willpower. These could be fatal to her, of course, but given her perpetual life cycle, that hardly seemed problematic. No, it was her spirit that needed revitalization.

Something about Felix had been an awakening in this particular lifetime. She hadn't expected it to come from him; by all appearances, one might think him a fatalist, or even nihilist. On the contrary, few understood the value of life like the second son of house Fraldarius. Gradually, one sparring match at a time, she had come to see the challenge his steely glare placed before her. With every battle, be it alongside or against his blade, he silently charged her with continuing to live- continuing to be strong.

"Lady Byleth? We've just received word that Duke Fraldarius is set to return this afternoon."

Byleth's hand unconsciously moved to rest on the hilt of her sword. She smiled, a warm yet eager smile.

"That's great to hear, thank you." she replied simply enough, but the maids who lingered after she departed shared a cautious glance. Without a word, both knew to stay clear of the manor's entrance hall- at least, until their Lord and Lady had concluded their usual greetings.

That had been hours ago by now, and no amount of pacing could calm Byleth's anxious anticipation. One may think that after a month apart from Felix, a few more hours of waiting would be negligible. On the contrary, knowing that she would soon see her husband once more only made the minutes drag themselves along like wounded soldiers.

By early afternoon, she was on her third lap through the entirety of the manor. Up on a second floor balcony with a view toward town, she glimpsed a familiar banner en route. Her face lit up, her hand gripped her sword. Without a care for how childish she may appear, she bounded down towards the entrance, taking the stairs two or even three at a time.

Upon reaching the main gate, she stole a moment to straighten her hair, and perhaps look as though she hadn't come running to meet him like a lonesome puppy. Goddess. Did he get like this when she went away for official business? The thought of Felix leaping down the stairs was an amusing one to be sure.

There- finally!

Felix led the entourage of guards who insisted on accompanying him on these trips; nevermind that placing himself at the front-most position practically nulled the point of having guards to begin with. He cut quite a dashing figure on horseback. Dark hair flitted around his sharp features, and his posture was tight, controlled and strong. He approached at a speed that was surely too fast for safety in a populated area, but the moment he caught sight of Byleth waiting at the gate, he slowed, and jumped down from his steed. In a single motion, he tossed his cloak over the saddle, then rounded on her. The smile he wore was charged, full of the thrills their reunion would bring. They each drew a blade from their hip in perfect unison, and the match was on once again.

Felix's weapon collided with Byleth's, and the shock of the force behind the blow reverberated through the steel and up her arm. She grinned. He must have really missed her. As usual, Felix was firmly on the offensive, but there was a noticeable spark in his movements today. He swung diagonally upward, Byleth expertly sidestepped. Using the continuing momentum, he circled around and brought his sword down at her opposite side. She deflected, pushing his blade askew, though he righted himself in an instant.

"Cutting it awfully close today," he said amidst the whirring and clashing of blades, "is this some sort of handicap, or have you gone soft in my absence?"

"Talk big after you win, dear." She put on a good show of confidence, but he wasn't wrong- her blocks were delayed, and her dodges left far less breathing room than she'd prefer. As their duel progressed into the manor's main entrance, she did her best to keep up, despite her distractions. Here, the echoes of their clashing blades vibrated from the walls throughout the open hall. Yet even among the din, Byleth was far more interested in amber eyes, sculpted cheekbones and hard muscle. She would not fool herself; she knew that she was far off her game, and she knew the reason. Her husband had made a singular request of her before his departure, and the results had her restless. In his gaze, she saw that he knew as well as she the kind of circumstances she was enduring.

The scrape of metal edge on edge screamed in her ear as Byleth blocked another swing, dragging the blade away and to the side. In the brief second this afforded her, she ducked around to flank him between herself and the nearest wall. Moving with the agile unpredictability of a mercenary, she crouched down and struck at his legs. Felix leapt back to dodge, but this put him at an unsteady angle. Yet rather than scramble to fix his footing, he let himself fall back into the wall, using the leverage to spin to the side and avoid the incoming lunge. The point of her blade struck paint and plaster. Now steady on his feet, Felix made his move.

He closed the distance between them, and with a single arm around her waist, pulled Byleth flush to his body and planted his lips firmly on hers. Legs trembling, she let out a fraction of a truly pathetic whimper, but he held. Leaning against her until her body arched back over his arm, Felix tilted his head into the kiss, brow furrowed, breathing heavy. Their bodies shared the heat of their duel and of their pent up lusts. Chests rose and fell with labored breath even as their lips pressed into one another.

Slowly, very slowly, Felix parted from her, though he still held her body close. A few dazed moments passed before Byleth managed to clear the sparks from her eyes and mind. Once she rejoined her senses, she was met by the tip of his sword pointed at her throat. She thought of her own weapon, but realized that at some point, she had dropped it to the floor.

"I think I win this round." Felix said with an insufferable smirk.

"Some victory," she grumbled, though her cheeks burned red and her own grin betrayed her, "that was a dirty tactic- dangling food over a starved woman."

"You'll have your fill." He said simply. With that, he sheathed his sword, then effortlessly lifted Byleth into his arms. She scoffed, though she couldn't help leaning against his chest.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking."

"I know fully well what you're capable of," Felix said, a playful edge in his voice and already making his way towards their quarters, "Indulge me. It's been a long month. Speaking of which…" his smirk widened, his voice lowered, "did you obey my request?"

Ugh. That infuriating request. His request that she not pleasure herself even once while he was away. He must know without asking that she had followed through. Nothing else could cause her swordsmanship to be so sloppy, so distracted. Byleth's body ached desperately. It was enough to be with him again, but being carried like this, his scent overtook her- the scent of weapon oil and sweat and something else that was delicious and masculine and so completely Felix.

"I… of course I did," she said after a pause. Glancing over his shoulder, she saw that the various servers and others in the employ of the Fraldarius manor had begun to re-emerge and go about their business in the now hazard-free entrance hall. Byleth knew and admired that Felix had little concern for what impressions others may have of him, but she couldn't help an attempt at casual normalcy. She cleared her throat as they passed others going about their business, yet casting amused glances their way as he carried her up flights of stairs and through corridors.

"Ho-How is the King?" she asked.

"The Boar? Same as ever. He asked about you. But honestly," Felix said as they rounded the last corner towards their bedroom, "he's the last thing on my mind right now."

In a fluid sequence, he nudged the door open, then kicked it shut, placed Byleth back on her feet, and forced her back against it, pinning her between the hardwood and his body. His kiss was fiery, aggressive even, the passion ringing through her mind and all but drowning out the sound of the lock clicking shut in the handle beside her. His tongue invaded her mouth, wrestling with hers and pulling moans of pleasure from her throat one by one. Byleth burned all the way to her core; it wasn't like her to be passive, but she found herself happily paralyzed by his rough handling after being without him for so long.

"Mmm-!" she arched into him as he bit her lip hard, dragging it between his teeth before returning to her in full. Amidst breathless kisses, Felix managed to rip off his gloves. Immediately, his hands pushed under her shirt, running fingernails along her back and raising goosebumps across her skin. He felt her gasp into their kiss, and grinned, never fully pulling away from her lips even as he murmured,

"Sensitive."

"Iss… S'your fault… Mm!" Byleth tugged him closer by the front of his clothing as his teeth found her neck, "A whole… month… c-couldn't even masturbate…!" she whimpered, high and needy, as he sucked at the sensitive skin just below her ear. Her trembling hands tried and failed to make some progress on getting his outer layers off of him. Damn him for wearing so much clothing. All she managed was to open a couple of the buttons on his coat.

"Yeesh…" he pulled away just enough to finish removing this and the white shirt beneath it, dropping them to the floor, "You're hopeless, you know that?"

Byleth knew this game, and she knew Felix too well to let him get away with his 'too stoic for affection' play-acting. She tugged him back to her by the belt loops of his pants, kissing him deeply to his evident pleasure.

"Is it so hopeless to desire you, Felix Hugo Fraldarius?" she teased between kisses. His fist against the door trapped her once again, and she felt his deep intake of breath as her hands traced the hard contours of his abs from atop his black undershirt. "Is it hopeless to want my strong, handsome husband to make love to me?"

"Byleth…" he whispered, his voice rasping in his throat. The next kiss she granted him was delicate, and almost innocent.

"I must be completely hopeless," her eyelashes fluttered up at him sweetly, but her hand eased down between his legs to trace his hardening member as it strained against his pants, "because even while I couldn't pleasure myself, every night I imagined your return, and the incredible things you'd do to me-"  
"Damnit, Byleth-!" Felix snarled, his head dropped down into the crook of her neck to punish her fair skin with his tongue and teeth. Briefly, she felt his cock throb in her palm, but he seized her by the wrist and pinned her once again. Evidently satisfied that she would behave, his hand traveled down her waist and hips to the hem of her shorts.

"You've always been weak to compliments," she said coyly. Yet her confident tone wasn't to last; he doubled down at her neck and collarbones, leaving harsh love-bites, causing her to openly whimper and moan for him.

"I don't need flattery," he grumbled against her skin, all the while his wandering hand made its way down the front of her clothing, "I just… like to know that you want me."

As his fingers reached the heat between her thighs and pushed insistantly past her lower lips, he could feel exactly how badly she did want him. Letting out a shuddering groan of his own, Felix slid a long finger along her entrance, then back up toward her clit. Now slickened with her overflowing arousal, his fingertip rolled tight circles around her stiffened clitorus, immediately setting her legs shaking beneath her. Byleth gasped his name and she instinctively began to grind herself against his hand. Felix was not a gentle lover, and in this lifetime, she adored that about him. The attractions and desires he struggled to express with words were effortlessly laid bare in the way he purred into her ear, the merciless, forceful movements of his fingers at her most sensitive spots, and how his free hand clung to her, desperate to touch as much of her as he could.

Somewhere in the kissing, biting, panting frenzy, he'd managed to pull down the front of Byleth's shorts and tights further so his hand could more freely access her. Two fingers plunged into her while the heel of his palm kept firm against her clit. She gasped, squirming in his grasp and struggling to keep herself upright. The sudden pressure of the two digits pulsing inside of her was intense, rough even, but Felix knew her body as well as his own both in war and pleasure. He felt her squeeze and shift around his fingers, and knew that she would happily receive all of his pent up longings.

Felix forced himself to part his lips from Byleth's body so he could watch her expressions. Her lovely complexion was tinted a lusty pink, her damp lips hung slightly parted with her panting breath. He curled his fingers in, pressing against her inner walls, and watched as her eyes became unfocused and her legs shook. With his free hand, he nudged her chin towards him, forcing her to meet his gaze. She was so close- so dearly close to the release he'd selfishly denied her all month.

"Don't." he said, as his pace slowed. Byleth whined his name, trying desperately to grind her body onto his hand.

"Felix…! Please-!"

"I want to feel it when you cum." Felix said bluntly, though his cheeks betrayed a subtle blush. His fingers eased out of her, but she continued to protest,

"A whole month, Felix!" she pouted, "And you could pleasure yourself whenever you wanted, while I-"

"I didn't, you know. Not once." amber eyes darted down over her body, "Sometimes I… had to just force myself to stop thinking about you."

Byleth chewed at her lower lip, now smiling playfully at the flush across her husband's face. That new information certainly changed things. She was well acquainted with Felix's appetites. He didn't often deprive himself. Grabbing him by the front of his turtleneck, she kissed his lips deeply, and felt him sigh appreciatively into her. His cock twitched, now achingly hard for her, and even this simple kiss made his blood run scorching hot. When she pulled away, her pointed gaze told him clearly what she wanted, and that she was done waiting.

With a mock sigh, he rolled his eyes and reached down to work on unfastening his boots. Byleth knew well enough not to take his outward irritability at face value; his body, and the ravenous way he'd been touching and kissing her since the moment he had her alone told her plenty of how he truly felt.

She was quicker ridding herself of the barrier of clothing than Felix, and she'd long since run out of patience. He hadn't even started on his pants, and was currently struggling with his shirt half way over his head. Byleth gave a short laugh, then started pushing him back towards their bed with cool hands firmly on his abdomen.

"He-Hey, woah!"

The back of his knees hit the bed, and he fell onto his back among the plush blankets. At first, he looked ready to spit out more of his usual bitter commentary, but something in the sight of Byleth eagerly climbing onto his lap silenced him. He watched with rapt attention as she reached down to open the front of his pants- a gesture which squeezed her breasts together beautifully before him. Felix swallowed hard, shirt all but forgotten in a wrinkled mess around his arms above him. It only returned to his mind when his eyes had taken in every inch of her glorious body and he realized that he needed to touch her.

Wrestling his shirt from his arms, tossing it to the floor without a thought, his hands immediately sought her out. He knew she could be hard. She could be powerful, unstoppable. But under his rough and calloused fingers, she was soft, even leaning into him as muscles relaxed and skin flushed. In a rather cat-like way, she shifted and responded to him, guiding his touch to where she wanted it most. Even now, months past their wedding night, Felix had to remind himself that this was real and not some tragic delusion; this radiant woman mewing and sighing at his touch was his, truly and completely.

Once she'd freed his rigid member from its restraints, she eyed it with unabashed hunger, running greedy hands along its full length. Felix whispered her name, his grip tight on the womanly swell of her thighs likely to leave more than a few reminders of his fingernails across her skin. Meanwhile, Byleth watched as his torso tensed and flexed beneath her- a landscape of hardened muscle punctuated by an intricate web of old scars. His cock throbbed powerfully in her hands, and she held back an admiring groan.

"Byleth," he said once more, voice soft but laden with barely contained passion, "I thought you needed to cum."

She gave a short laugh, though she relented and began to position herself over him. Even quick brushes of his cockhead along her inner thighs as she aligned him with a hand only enhanced their mutual anticipation.

"Now who's hopeless?" she teased, pressing the tip of his cock to her tight entrance, but holding off just a moment longer. The expression on his face was too delicious- submissive, even. It was in his voice, too, an unspoken but driving desire to service the woman he adored,

"Come on, stop being difficult," his hips pushed upward, but he only managed to rub his hard shaft between her lips, nudging her clit pleasurably along the way, "Let me fuck you already- p-please…!"

Please? Byleth bit her bottom lip. He's desperate enough to have suddenly discovered manners. Not to say she wasn't every bit as eager, but she was enjoying this rare side of her husband. Ultimately his erection, bulging and rock-hard between her lower lips, was far too compelling an argument.

Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, her soaked warmth swallowing him inch by inch. The pair uttered a sigh in unison. His battle-worn hands held her tighter still, her complexion burned red with arousal. She had hoped to take her time to enjoy him, to settle and let herself adjust to his invading manhood. Yet the moment she had taken him to the base, Byleth began moving her hips with him, grinding the veins and the curve of his member along her insides, fucking herself on his cock.

To start, Felix could hardly keep up. His breath hitched unevenly in his throat, while Byleth let hers out in heavy moans and gasps. It was enough to feel himself held snug inside of her, the bumps and contours of her pussy relentlessly massaging his member that had been without her attention for so long. But then there were her expressions, her euphoric cries, all egging him on and reminding him that, yes, she wanted him, needed him even, and longed for relief that only he could offer.

Byleth knew she would not last long. Pent up as she was, overly sensitive to his touch and his movements, she could already feel her pleasure knotting tight in her core, building towards release. She leaned forward and supported herself with hands on his chest. While her hands pawed at him, she rode him hard, whimpering happily as she forced herself down onto his cock again and again. The curve of his shaft pressed his tip into the sensitive nerves behind her clit, dragging the swollen head against her at the perfect angle with each pass. Eventually, chasing her pleasure had her bucking her hips onto him with such force that her thighs began to ache and tremble.

_Ugh, just a little more, I'm so close…! _

"You're… you're shaking," Felix said, barely more than a heated whisper, "C'mere." With a hand, he pulled her by the arm down onto his chest, then held her tight around the waist. His other hand grabbed onto her upper thigh, ostensibly to support and steady her, but the feeling of her plump flesh pushing back into his hand wasn't bad either.

"Relax, will you? Let- let me take over."

If Byleth had any objections, they were dashed the moment she felt him thrust upward into her. Giving a delighted little yelp, she let herself melt into his strong arms. His lower hand traveled to her backside, gripping her tight and spreading her just a little more for him as his cock pounded into her from below. He was breathtaking like this- consumed and driven in the pursuit of their pleasure, dark hair messily splayed out across the pillow behind him and fair skin tinted red and dotted with bite marks. Byleth's adoring gaze was glassy and unfocused, blurred with pleasure. Sex with Felix was usually rough and intense, even aggressive, but something about being without one another for so long amplified every movement, every tingling nerve. She kissed him, hungry and messy, tongue and teeth ravaging his surprisingly soft lips, yet soon her high, helpless gasps broke her away from him.

"Felix-! I'm, I'm…!" her voice failed her. He pushed his throbbing cock into her, his hold on her body forcing her to take him as deep into her as she could fit him. Then, he held, his typically sharp eyes now tender as he watched his love come undone in his arms. Byleth forced herself to face him- she knew he loved to watch her when she came. Whimpering his name, her body shook, her pussy tightened and coiled around his length, her fingernails dragging along his chest.

Her husband met her half-lidded eyes with a sort of pleading, needy look in his own. She felt him swell inside of her, stretching her even as she rode out the end of her climax. Watching her orgasm always did rile him, but this time, it was too much to endure. Panting, grunting, he eased out of her, then forcefully buried his length in her to the base. Her warrior's strength had all but abandoned her; her climax leaving her limp and mewling contentedly as Felix finally reached his own peak.

"Ahhh…! Mmm-!" Felix pulled her down to him and silenced his moans by burrowing his lips in the crook of her neck as he began to release inside of her. The built up lusts of a month apart shot into her warmth, each pulse of his cum sending pleasurable shivers up from the base of her spine. Hot and thick, he soon filled her up completely until she felt him let out a heavy sigh against her skin, and his muscles relaxed all at once.

After a few quiet moments to catch their breath, Felix finally pulled out of her. Once Byleth had regained the ability to speak, she smiled warmly and said,

"I missed you too-"

"I love you," Felix cut in. Speaking firmly, practically glaring at her with the intensity of his emotion, he declared his affections as though he were challenging her to a duel. Byleth smiled and idly brushed stray bangs from his face.

"I love you too, Felix."

At some point, Byleth had gotten into the habit of usually saying his name when expressing her feelings for him. After all, he needed to know that it was him, and truly him, who had won her over.

She did discuss the matter of her infinite reincarnation with him, eventually. In one of her past lives, she had opened up to tell Linhardt about her circumstances in extensive detail, and ever since that lifetime, she had at least attempted to explain herself to her lover in each new cycle. The results varied dramatically. Felix's reaction had been one of her favorites.

"Okay, so if that's all true, so what?" he'd said, then reached out a hand to run his fingers across her cheek, "The you who's right here in front of me is mine."

Byleth didn't often blush anymore, but this bold and simple statement warmed her through. Her hand rested atop his, and she leaned into his touch. Felix paused, perhaps to process all she had told her in a little more depth. He was not adept at hiding his feelings, so if she was unable to parse his expression, then he must be working through something comparatively complex.

"That said," he soon added, "It sounds to me like we're likely to be enemies in at least some of your lives. Or at least, on opposing sides of a battlefield or two."

He spoke flippantly, as though this was all only natural to him, and strangely, that felt reasonable to Byleth. She nodded.

"Then I have one request, for all of your lives to come," he moved a step closer, taking her hand in his, "If ever you have to kill me- or, kill me again, since I'm sure you've had to do it before-" she flinched, and he knew he'd guessed right. It hardly mattered. "When we face one another again some day, make it a real fight."

Her smile turned bittersweet, but she nodded once again. She started to speak, but he went on,

"And kill me properly if you must, understand? Dying by magic or arrow would be an embarrassment."

"I get it, Felix, honestly I kind of figured that-"

"If you're going to fight me at a distance at all, it had better be with the Sword of the Creator, so at least it would still be a sword fight, and-"

Byleth silenced him with a firm, deep kiss. Apparently, this succeeded in clearing his thoughts. His hands came to rest on her upper arms and he pulled her closer.

Of course, he had meant what he'd told her. Only this life mattered to him. This life with her, where he could hold her in his bed, admire her in battle, and call her his and his alone until whatever death awaited him. He trusted Byleth to handle the rest.


	3. Poet - Lorenz

Byleth's courtship with Lorenz had been a romantic and slow one. The former aspect, she enjoyed, the latter, she tolerated. Having lived lifetime after lifetime of conflict, the exhausted professor found comfort in the silken words and carefully curated gestures of the Glaucester heir. She had thought, at first, that his company would be a pleasant distraction- an indulgent dalliance to amuse her and lighten her mood. However, the more time she spent with him, the more tea shared and the more layers of his persona she managed to dig through, the more she realized that there was far more to him than flamboyant posturing. As the war had dragged on, she found herself lifted up by his unfaltering sincerity. Ultimately, she had to admit that he was no longer the school boy who's matrimonial pursuits had vexed her; rather, he was a man who learned, bettered himself, and encouraged others.

Though, by now, the war had long since ended, and Byleth found herself impatient for something more substantial than poetry. Being the picture of a gentleman, Lorenz would never make unseemly advances on her, no matter his own desires. For a time, she wondered if he had such desires for her to begin with. Once she began to test the waters, however, she found him delightfully receptive to light teasing. Here and there, she may let her shirt slip a little too low, knowing fully well that his height would give him an exquisite view. She may even 'accidentally' spill a bit of tea over her chest and require assistance to clean herself. Most recently, she'd watched him sputter and blush his way through helping her in selecting an appropriate gown for a formal ball at his own manor.

The event was to be lavish, to say the least, but it had its purpose. In the post-war tension, alliances needed to be secured, platforms needed to be avowed, and so on. This would be the start of a number of such social gatherings, all aimed toward greater stabilization and peace for Fodlan. To Byleth's pleasure and surprise, Lorenz had even extended invitations to a number of their former companions of common birth.

"Naturally, dearest," he had said with practiced confidence when questioned, "Noble and commoner all have their duties, and each is sure to benefit from a meeting of minds and talents. Besides, _our _comrades are not simply commoners- they are heroes and champions of the highest caliber!"

This was followed by Lorenz spending the time leading up to this ball fretting about his old classmate's table manners.

When the night of the event arrived, the Glaucester manor was a fantastical sight, decked out in the finest of tasteful splendor. Music floated above the hall, inviting couples to dance throughout the evening. Old friends in a hilarious variety of formal attire were eager to steal their professor's attention. Raphael was quick to point out all of the highlights of the evening's catering, Leonie spent some time interrogating her about upkeeping her training regiment, and so on. While Byleth was gracious, and truly delighted to spend time together again, she couldn't help her distracted glances in Lorenz's direction.

He was surrounded by Almyran dignitaries, no doubt entertaining them with all his expertly groomed bearing had to offer. In a rare quiet moment, Byleth's eyes scanned his body. Paradoxically, the modest formal wear of the nobility hugged close and accentuated his form sinfully. His lithe and graceful frame, toned and muscled from years of battle, drew her gaze in a way that was perhaps less than noble.

"Hey, teach! Long time no see!" Claude's unmistakable voice called above the hum of the crowd, "And, might I add, what a way to see you."

There may have been a split-second delay in Byleth turning to meet him with a smile. That must be how he was able to follow where her eyes had just been. She tried to ignore his smart-alec smirk as she watched his quick wit connect the dots.

"It's good to see you, Claude. How have you been?"

"Same as ever- wrestling politicians' egos little by little each day," he said rather flippantly, "But tell me how you've been, Great Champion of Fodlan. I've heard you've been a big help to my good buddy Lorenz with wrangling the Alliance folks. But I wonder if he's showing his appreciation properly?"

Byleth raised her eyebrows and gave a quirked, questioning smile. Claude slung his arm over her shoulders and went on,

"C'mooon, don't be shy- is he treating you right? And I don't mean whether he's being gentlemanly, I mean, is he… satisfying you?" his eyebrows raised and his smirk widened. She felt her face warm, and she stammered out,

"Oh- well, we haven't- he- he wouldn't-"

Caude sighed heavily, eyes rolling dramatically to the side.

"That's exactly what I was afraid of- and I suspected as much, from that look you were just giving him." When he spoke again, he projected his voice a little unnaturally, causing their friends surrounding them to all pause to stare, "Well, I guess it's up to me to show such a beautiful woman a good time tonight. Come, Lady Byleth, allow me to steal you away for this next dance-!'

"That is quite enough, Claude."

As he'd pulled her by the hand towards the dance floor, she felt an arm at her waist holding her fast. Lorenz met Claude's good-natured grin with tight lips and an irritably raised eyebrow. Loathe as she would be to admit it, she'd been so starved for his touch that even just his hand around her made her mind race.

"Well now!" Claude replied, unshakable as ever, "Is the great Lorenz Hellman Glaucester feeling a bit possessive? Gonna hog teach all to yourself, I suppose?"

Lorenz let out a frustrated sigh.

"Nothing nearly so crass. I simply won't have you tugging a lady about by the arm like some sort of pillaging roughian." He turned to Byleth, releasing her from his protective hold, and with a short bow, said, "If you would have me, I would be honored to share a dance."

"Sure, Lorenz, if you're not busy."

"Too busy to entertain one so radiant? Never!"

As she took his arm he led her to the dancefloor, she glanced back, only to see Claude throwing her a playful wink before turning to greet the rest of his former classmates. She stifled a laugh. He must know better than anyone that sometimes Lorenz needed to be provoked a little. She would have to thank him later.

Hand in hand, Lorenz and Byleth easily fell into step with one another. Though, she was no expert by any means, so she gladly let him lead. The pair made idle small talk as they danced, but her mind was elsewhere. She recalled the time he had spent teaching her the basics of courtly dance etiquette. Those had been thoroughly enjoyable lessons for her; alone in his study, he'd held her close, his touch unafraid and certain as he guided her step by step. Perhaps the tropes and traditions of the dancefloor gave him permission to place his hands on her without fear of impropriety.

"Forgive me if I've neglected to say so this evening, Byleth, but you are stunningly beautiful," Lorenz said with all of his charm as he led her into a slow twirl under his arm. When she returned to face him with his hand at her waist, she was pleased to have caught his line of sight wandering down over her just a little. That was a hopeful sign.

"Why thank you," she replied, "You're not looking bad yourself." He smiled warmly, an expression miles away from his self-confident grin. That was for politics. This smile was for her. He had grown to adore her very frank way of expressing herself, and its contrast to his constant search for just the right word.

"I mean it- truly," he said as their dance slowed toward the final measures of the song, "You do such a service to fine clothes, it is difficult to imagine you as a mercenary or professor."

Byleth's smile slanted, just barely hinting at her intentions when she replied,

"What about a noble lady, then? Perhaps, even, Lady Glaucester?"

Her taunt had exactly the effect she'd hoped for.

"That's- That is to say, I, you-" his fine features immediately flushed red, and the last few steps of their dance were stilted and clumsy. Byleth could hardly contain her amusement, not to mention how charming it was to see that poised facade of his falter. The song ended, couples parted for their final bows and curtsies, and the two followed suit. Among the pleasantries between the pairs around them, Lorenz took her hand,

"I beg of you, do not torment me with such a… bold jest."

"And what if it's not a jest at all?" she countered. His hold on her hand tightened, he parted his lips to speak, but for the first time she could recall in any of her lifetimes, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester appeared at a loss for words. Lavender eyes darted around them, perhaps to ensure that they were not the focus of any unwanted attention, then he mumbled,

"Forgive me," and he began to lead Byleth from the dancefloor by the hand. She may have allowed herself a short, quiet chuckle at his absolute loss of composure, but she tried to keep it to herself. Soon enough, they departed the main hall into the temperate night air, heading towards the gardens along the back end of the manor. What an enchanting spot for a private conversation- Byleth could swear she had read such scenarios in romantic literature.

Weaving through corridors of flowers and immaculately trimmed hedges, brushing by other couples and small groups of friends out for fresh air, they eventually came to a small enclosure around a stone carved bench. Framed by latticework braided with blooming vines, it made for an idyllic sight. Rather than sit, however, Lorenz seemed quite unsure of what to do with himself, and finally said,

"Byleth, I… I am afraid I simply don't have the strength to endure such teasing. I pray you will forgive this one shortcoming-"

"Lorenz," she cut in, gently pulling him to face her by the front of his overcoat, "I'm sorry, but sometimes it seems that teasing you is the only way to see your genuine feelings about certain things." At this, he appeared dumbstruck, perhaps even a bit hurt. "I know you care about me, and you've made your admiration pretty apparent," she clarified, "but I need to know that you… well, that you desire me," finally, even she had to admit a hint of a blush across her face, "Maybe it doesn't seem proper to you, but- I desire you, so…"

"Byleth…" Lorenz breathed out, barely even aloud. A gloved hand traced her jawline and brushed stray strands of light green hair behind her ear. "I- I do desire you, most ardently, in fact, and, and even so deeply that I struggle to tame my thoughts in your presence-"

She silenced him with a finger over his lips. After a moment, she removed it,

"Show me."

This kiss was not their first by any means, but it was different than any other previously. Lorenz leaned into her, tilting his head to fit their lips perfectly against one another. Byleth's fists clutched onto his lapels. She let slip the tail end of a sigh, but she could have no idea what affect this simple sound had on his heart rate. He held only for a few tempting moments longer, the heady scent of his cologne and the subtle movements of his lips on hers making her long for more. Yet he slowly parted from her, bringing a gentle hand to her cheek. She held fast to his clothing though, tugged him close once more, and said breathily,

"Lorenz, come on- kiss me like you want me."

Finally, his restraint began to fracture. His kiss was impassioned now, deeper, even a little hungry. Holding her body flush to his, his tongue slid into her with ease, tentative at first, but bolder by the second. Byleth moaned against him, already feeling herself warm and tense between her thighs as he sensually explored her, prodding and circling her tongue in a way that made her wonder what else he could do with his. It was a pleasant surprise; he was startlingly skilled with his mouth once he allowed himself to be, and it couldn't be the result of practice. The man had a gift.

The gown she'd convinced herself to tolerate for the evening pushed her breasts upward while cinching her waist, such that when Lorenz held her close like this, there was an erotic sort of friction between their bodies. Byleth was starting to suspect that 'noble' fashion sensibilities were, in truth, insidiously arousing. She didn't dwell on the thought, however. Lorenz uttered a guilty moan into their kiss, and Byleth rewarded him with a whimper of her own, and a quick nip at his lower lip. His body tensed, she felt him take in a sharp breath.

Footsteps. Fabric and nearby branches rustled. Damnit.

"Hey, there, Loreeenz-!" a sing-song voice called out, then abruptly stalled, "Oh! Whoopsie…" the pair parted, both red in the face as Hilda hesitated at the entrance to their formerly private enclosure.

"Hi-Hilda-" Lorenz stuttered while Byleth smoothed down a rogue strand of his hair that had clung to the corner of her lip, "What can, I, ho-how may I assist you?" he only now thought to release the woman in his arms, facing their friend who wore a devilish grin.

"Sooo sorry to interrupt, you two," she said, "I just had a tiny little favor to ask…"

Byleth stood with arms crossed and a bemused smile. It seemed Hilda had attracted an unwanted admirer- a minor noble of the northernmost Alliance territories who had been hounding her for attention all evening. By the time Lorenz understood the situation and had vowed to assist, the man himself had reached their horticultural cul-de-sac, which was rapidly becoming quite crowded. As Hilda occupied him with trite greetings and a 'sincere' apology for running off on her own, Lorenz, still working on composing himself, managed a quick aside.

"Byleth, dearest," he hurriedly brought her hand to his lips, "I wish to make amends. Later this evening, once I am no longer obligated to host, would-"

"Yes," she cut in, smiling warmly, then added, "your quarters."

He stole just a few moments longer to give her a sweet, if anxious glance and place one more kiss atop her knuckles. Releasing her just as HIlda had turned to him for aid, his posture straightened and he strode forward to greet his guest,

"My good man, I am _thrilled _to finally have the honor of bending your ear, as I am in _dire _need of your perspective and expertise- do come along, sir."

The remainder of the evening was peppered with distracting encounters with his goddess to set his pulse pounding. What began as fleeting brushes of Byleth's fingers on his arm, or along his back as she passed him by in the crowd, eventually escalated until he actually felt her hand run along his backside. At this, he'd nearly spat out his drink, and had required several minutes alone in a back hallway to clear his head and calm his racing heart.

Later still, she'd pulled a handkerchief from the front of her dress, insisting that she could see a trace of wine at the corner of his lips and dabbing it away before leaving the kerchief with him. The fabric was positively saturated with the scent of her body and the warmth of her breasts, and merely holding such a thing in his hand felt transgressive beyond belief. Lorenz folded and tucked it away in his inner coat pocket, if nothing else to put it out of sight and mind. Still, its presence burned through his clothing and into his chest, a nagging reminder of the sordid events of the evening to come. She had to be aware of what she was doing to him.

As for Byleth, she could't remember the last time she'd had a courtship like this. One that slowed her thoughts, that caused her to pause and appreciate gestures great and small. After so many lives and so many lovers, one can become complacent in the routine of seduction and success. Lorenz had made her wait, and as a result, had made her want him near desperately. With each calculated pass she made at him, she saw him become more flustered, more anxious, and she found herself eager to see him express his long-denied lusts at last.

She was glad that she was to see her former comrades again the following day at a pre-arranged brunch; Byleth disliked the idea of being torn between old friends and very present, very insistent desires. As such, by the time most of the night's attendees had either filtered out for their journeys home or asked to be directed to guest accomodations within the manor, she was already on her way upstairs and through the maze of corridors to Lorenz's private quarters.

His bedroom was every bit as lavish yet tasteful as one could imagine. She had only visited here once or twice before, and never before at night. Some maid or server must have tended to the several lit candles that cast a warm glow throughout. As she recalled, his desk was piled high with written correspondence and treatises on politics and trade, and every surface without a practical purpose was adorned with some manner of artwork or bouquet. Abandoning her cramped shoes beside the four poster bed, she busied herself with examining the decor until she heard the door open once more behind her.

"Oh, thank goodness, hey, lend me a hand," she said, coming to the side of the bed nearest to Lorenz while he closed and locked the door, "You have no idea how done I am with this whole corset business- how do noble women tolerate this regularly?"

He chuckled and approached her where she stood expectantly with her back to him. While he appeared grateful for her candor to ease the tension, Byleth could still feel the hesitation in his movements. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and her gaze must have shook something in him. He cleared his throat and stepped toward her, then reached out for her as though she were made of glass. Dexterous fingers began to unwind the armor-tight strings across her back with ease, and he dared to lean down to place a chaste kiss on the exposed skin at the base of her neck. As he did, violet locks of hair spilled over her shoulder, tickling over-sensitive nerves.

"It would be my pleasure and my honor to assist you with such bothersome attire whenever you require it of me." he said softly, his breath warm along her upper back. Byleth chewed at her bottom lip in her excitement, feeling the now-familiar warmth of a blush darkening her complexion. Perhaps in the candlelight he wouldn't notice.

"You've come around to the idea then?" she teased, then let out a deep breath of relief as she felt her bindings loosen from her, fabric now slack around her arms and chest.

"My dearest love," he murmured, gloved hands flitting across her skin as he eased the outer layers of her clothing from her, "With your request, and were propriety no concern, I would have had you for my own there in the gardens. And in the time since, you have busied yourself with tormenting my body and mind with temptations. So, yes, I believe I have 'come around.'"

She couldn't help a self-satisfied grin at this, particularly as his tone made it obvious that he'd quite enjoyed her 'temptations.'  
"Mm-! Lorenz-!" his lips at her neck immediately turned her smirk into a pleasurable whine. His careful hands made their way around her, pulling her back to his chest as the discarded gown fell around her feet and his kisses on needy flesh caused a tingling pleasure down her spine. She leaned back into him, tilting her head to grant him easier access, sighing happily at the mere brush of his fingertips as he combed her hair out of his path.

"What an exquisite sound…" he murmured, his breath hot on her skin, "I never knew my own name could be so divine." His touch was silken, delicate, yet hungry all the same, as he explored her body, now clad in the frilly underthings that Byleth had been assured by the maids of the manor were only proper under such a dress. In truth, she suspected they were rather lascivious; the fabric was far too sheer, far too clingy. For as silly as the former mercenary had felt donning such feminine garments, her lover seemed taken with the sight of lace atop a network of old scars.

By the time his loving service along her neck and shoulders had begun to make her legs unsteady, Byleth forced herself to pull away and turn to him. She kissed him once, briefly, to answer his questioning expression, then took his hand in hers and pulled him back toward the bed. Sitting at the edge of the mattress with him standing before her, she tugged at the fabric of his glove until it gave and she discarded it on the floor. Lorenz eyed her with curiosity that rapidly became enthrallment, as she brought her lips to his bared fingers and flicked her tongue across the tip of a single digit. He breathed in sharply and watched her slide her lips around a finger, sucking at it gently before pulling away while grazing her teeth lightly along the skin. Hypnotized, he watched her deliver similar treatment to each finger in turn. A subtle smile tugged at her lips. She could feel his pulse quicken, and caught a hint of his hardening outline in the front of his pants.

He had beautiful hands, Byleth mused; the traces of old callouses remained, but he clearly took care of himself, so the skin was smooth and fragrant. His fingers were long, graceful yet strong. With a final brush of her lips along his knuckles, she raised her eyes to meet his, and was pleased to see him in a near trance-like state. She laughed softly,

"Well, then?" her eyes scanned his body, "Other than maybe the other glove, I wouldn't even know where to start getting the rest of that off of you."

Her words snapped his mind back into focus.

"Why- yes, of course," he said with a rare shy smile. Byleth crawled onto his bed and let herself sink into the array of pillows as she watched him undress. Layers of finery dropped beside him until he was left in an unbuttoned undershirt and closely fitted breeches, looking for all the world like an illustration in the same risque novels she'd recalled earlier in the gardens.

After a moment to admire the angel laid across his bed, Lorenz carefully climbed atop her, slid his arm under her waist, and kissed her with all of the adoration and lust pounding through his veins. Byleth moaned happily into him; it finally seemed he required no more coaxing. He was ready to show her exactly how he desired her. Her thighs tensed and rubbed together just a little, as his scent and that of his cologne filled her senses, and his skillful tongue made her dizzy with arousal. By the time he moved to kiss a trail along her jaw towards her neck, he'd left her lips hanging open, her breath heavy and face painted red. All the while, she let her hands roam his body, enjoying the dips and swells of his abs and pectorals, the sharp contour of elegant collarbones and the tensed muscles of his arms and shoulders.

Lorenz kissed a sensuous path down to her chest while his hands were busy undoing the various hooks and ties of her undergarments. She arched up to him, allowing him to remove the last of the frills and fabric that had kept him from her breasts. Given free rein, he groaned into her tender flesh and began to cover her chest in kisses and even gentle bites, his tongue pulsing against her skin and waking her nerves one by one. Byleth whimpered up toward the ceiling, fingers combing into his hair. His hands ran up the sides of her body to cup her breasts on either side, pushing them forward against his lips, and she felt him murmur,

"Mmm… if there were but world enough, and time…" it sounded like some long-remembered line of poetry, though Byleth couldn't say she recognized it.

"P-pardon…?" she breathed out, though her voice soon melted back into the pleasant mews and whines of pleasure at his ministrations.

"If it were possible, I would devote centuries to worshipping each and every part of your body," his lips brushed one stiffened nipple, then the other, pulling a gasp from her throat, "I would gladly let ages pass to give my own goddess the service you're so deserving of, and never tire of supplicating at your alter," his hands slid down her sides to her hips, holding her close as he pressed a lavish kiss between her breasts, then dragged his tongue down along the center of her abdomen. Placing one more heated kiss just below her navel, he whispered, "but I fear that I have already made you wait too long, my love."

Byleth moaned his name while his lips traveled lower and his hands pulled her underwear down her hips. These joined the clothing beside the bed, leaving her now only in stockings and garters. Once more, Lorenz paused to admire her body- her large breasts that rose and fell with panting breath, her firm, tight stomach offset by swelling, womanly hips. Now, his reverent hands followed the curve of her thighs and guided them open, and his head dipped down between her legs, his hair cascading across her lower stomach.

"Aahh-! Lo… Lorenz…!" Byleth squirmed beneath him as his tongue pushed between the puffy outer lips of her pussy. Starting slow, he explored her from her tight opening, back up to her immediately hardening clit. With long, luxurious strokes, his mouth pulsed around the sensitive bud, and his eyes fluttered shut. Leaning into her with a moan, his tongue rolled up and down across her clit, and she was only distantly aware of his hold on her thighs tightening. His mouth sealed around her clit and the soft flesh surrounding it, the tip of his tongue nudging it this way and that before flattening once more and pressed into it, causing her to cry out and arch up from the bed.

Byleth had guessed right- Lorenz had a gift. She wasn't certain how much more of this she could withstand. Knuckles white, she clenched the sheets beneath her and did her best to steady her trembling legs. With hazy eyes, she glanced down at him and saw a man completely possessed by his task. Delicate brows furrowed, nose and lips pressed against her, he held her to him while his tongue moved a little faster, a little firmer, flicking and circling her clit like it was the most exquisite taste he'd ever experienced. Then, she noticed the way his body moved, ever-so subtly shifting his hips against the mattress. In all likelihood, he didn't even realize he was doing it, but this confirmed her suspicions- Lorenz adored orally servicing her, and his arousal at the act had become almost too much for him to contain. Byleth bit her lip, whimpered softly, feeling her climax start to build.

"Lor… Lorenz…Mmm…!" she gasped out, "Would- would you… touch yourself for me? Please…?"

He may have given pause at the lewd idea for a moment, but if his goddess wished it, he was happy to oblige. While he never let up between her legs, one hand traveled down between his own, pulling down at the front of his pants to free his fully erect member. With her limited line of sight, all Byleth could see of this was the flexing of his shoulder muscles and his arm shifting up and down as he handled himself. Yet that was enough to flood her lower body, warm and wet as Lorenz continued to thrum his tongue against her throbbing clitorus.

"Ye… Yes-! Mmmmm!" the feeling of him loving her with his mouth, coupled with the erotic thought of him stroking himself, groaning into her lower lips, was close to overwhelming her. Reaching down to him, her fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him against her, which caused him to let out a longing whimper. His tongue slid lower and pushed into her, then curled upward, digging along the upper wall of her pussy. Byleth threw her head back into the pillow and cried out for him, panting and grinding her hips against him until a dizzying wave of pleasure washed over her. Shuddering, gasping out his name, she tensed and then finally relaxed back onto the mattress, her fist in his hair unclenching and her legs lying limp on either side of him.

Lorenz kissed her once more, just above her lower lips, then straightened up to finish removing the remainder of his clothing while Byleth caught her breath. Truly, she had never been with a man who so genuinely adored giving oral pleasure. She thought to return the favor, but he hardly gave her the time to consider. Soon enough, he was atop her once more, kissing her tenderly and easing her thighs apart around him.

She felt his tip, warm at her dripping wet entrance. He took a breath, and staid himself a moment longer,

"Forgive me, may… may I-"

He was restraining himself again. That wouldn't do. Byleth ran her hand through his hair, brushing it behind his ear, and softly said,

"Tell me what you want."

She hadn't intended to sound so much like his professor again. Lorenz grazed his fingers along her cheek and breathed in slowly.

"My darling, I want you," he began, kissed her once, then lowered and confessed the rest into her neck, letting his breath tease her skin, "I want to enter you, to reach deeper inside of you than your own lustful fingers ever have. I want to feel that same sweet honey that I tasted clinging to my body," she felt his cock twitch against her, "I want to make you sing and cry and pray, and I want to fill you with the proof of my lust to overflowing, so that you will never again have cause to doubt that I desire you."

"I… wow…" Byleth half-moaned. She had hoped to goad him into stating that he wanted to make love to her, or even to fuck her- but, no, that wouldn't be like him. His flowered yet unmistakably heated words in a voice so saturated with longing made her lower body quiver.

"Lorenz, please…" she whispered sweetly. Without another word, he aligned the head of his hardened length between her folds and slowly pushed into her. Inch by inch, he parted her snug insides, urging her to fit around him until he had burrowed into her to his base. Byleth let out a pleasurable sigh and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. After a pause to ensure her comfort, he began to rock his hips against her, slow and steady, massaging his manhood into her gradually. He felt bigger than she'd expected, given his slender frame, and she certainly had no complaints.

The intense orgasm he'd driven her to mere minutes earlier lingered in her body's memory, making her maddeningly receptive to his every touch, kiss and thrust. Murmuring her pleasure to him, Byleth clung to his lithe but sturdy torso, pulling him down to her. A hand trailed her nails up the back of his neck and along his scalp, weaving into a curtain of soft violet hair. She must have hit something delightfully sensitive; his entire body shivered, and he groaned as he let his head sink into the pillows beside her. His swaying hips came harder now, more confident, though every motion remained sensual and tender. Moaning praise and more into his ear, she raised her knees around his waist, allowing his tip to rub deep into her core.

Without a thought, she whimpered,

"Fuck, Lorenz… Mmm, your cock feels so good-!"

On realizing the tone and profanity of her words, Byleth worried for a brief moment that she may have offended his noble sensibilities. To the contrary, his hold around her waist tightened, and he uttered a half-strangled groan along the side of her neck.

"Again," he pleaded into her ear, voice husky and so unlike his usual jovial lilt, "Please, darling, more…"

Byleth couldn't stifle a pleased moan. This was an unexpected but welcome reaction, and she was more than happy to give him the lewd words he could never bring himself to say. As his hips continued to push and pull against her like rolling waves and his lips adored her neck, she murmured breathlessly to him,

"You… made me cu-cum so hard, my pussy is- is still so sensitive…!" she barely finished her thought before the sensation of his full length twitching and swelling inside of her dissolved her voice into euphoric cries. Already, she could feel the tension of another climax winding itself tight in her core. Her legs tensed, squeezing around him, and her breath came in panting, ragged gasps. Somehow, as he made love to her slow and passionate, her head spun the same as if he were some masculine conqueror punishing her into the bed. Her nails must have been digging into his back a little, though she tried to match his soft tenderness. Although, she thought, he seemed to quite like her rougher way of expressing her needs.

"I've… wanted you to make me yours for so long, Lorenz," she forced herself to speak through the moans and sighs he pulled from her, "I… I've imagined you fu-fucking me- mmm! Goddess, you're gonna… gonna make me-!"

With surprising strength and even a little force, he held her around her waist so tight that her lower body was just slightly lifted up from the blankets. She arched back, pale green hair splaying across the pillows behind her, and with nails digging into his shoulders, she let him bring her to orgasm once more. Her glassy green eyes met his as he watched her tense, squirming and trembling in his arms, then release all at once. She could barely hear him whisper her name with something like awe in his voice.

Something in his bearing changed as Byleth attempted to catch her breath and blink clear her eyes in the wake of her second climax of the night. The pace of his thrusts had quickened, and his cock throbbed eagerly until she could feel it straining against her tight warmth. With sweet whispered supplications, he returned to her collarbones and chest with teeth and tongue.

"It's okay, Lorenz," she said softly, running admiring hands through his hair, "You can- mm! You… can cum for me…"

His lips hung ajar, breathing out what moans he would allow of himself while both hands held onto her body like she was the last beautiful thing in the world. He bucked against her, his cock grinding into the bumps and contours of her pussy. Chest against chest, stomach to stomach, the intimate friction heated their bodies. Finally, Byleth noticed her lover's body stiffen, heard her name pour from his lips over and over, and felt his pleasure bursting inside of her. The pair held each other in warm, panting unison as Lorenz groaned with each wave of cum that he released into her. With soft whimpers and sighs, Byleth happily received him and allowed herself these moments to bask in his scent, muskier and more masculine now than his usual, and the rare vulnerability in his quivering voice.

Thoroughly spent, Lorenz kissed her once, gentle and fleeting, then touched his forehead to hers as they both caught their breath. He eased out from between her legs, though this final movement earned him a delicious sigh from his love's lips. He let himself fall to the bed beside her, and his arm around her waist pulled her up to lay atop him. With a light chuckle, she obliged, enjoying the feeling of his heartbeat beneath her as she rested on his chest. They wore matching tired smiles, occasionally brushing noses and trading loving pleasantries.

"To think, you've been holding that back all this time," Byleth said, coyly twirling a lock of his hair around her fingertips. With a short laugh, he kissed the bangs messily ruffled across her forehead,

"Well, I do hope that I have thoroughly proven my desires."

"And then some." she replied, and nestled against his chest.

Byleth did eventually explain her unique life cycle to Lorenz, though she waited some time to do so. Lorenz, despite all appearances, was a realist and a pragmatist, and may require some convincing. Aside from this, the newly appointed Alliance leader had plenty on his plate without managing her existential stress. She knew from witnessing the historical progression of her many past lives that, given the opportunity, he would do remarkable things for his country. This was in no small part thanks to his allegiance with Claude in Almyra, but these were new ideas for Fodlan- practically avant garde in their conception and daring in their execution. Thus, years passed before she felt justified in burdening him with her story.

As she'd expected, it took some persuading and assurance of her sanity for him to accept the idea. Finally, she watched the reality take root in his mind, and to her surprise, a deep sadness softened his eyes. He took her hand in both of his and cradled it at his chest.

"Dearest- do you mean to tell me that you have lived through the entirety of that abysmal war repeatedly?"

She nodded.

"And that, inevitably… you will do so again."

"Yes, it seems so." she replied, with just a hint of the melancholy she tried to keep from her voice. He drew her into his arms at once, holding her almost too tight, and she let herself relax into him. When he spoke, she felt the tremor in his throat,

"Then please, allow me to swear to you at this moment that I will make this land a peaceful one for you, my dearest."

"Lorenz…"

"As long as I draw breath," he said, a gentle hand stroking her hair, "I will do everything in my power to give you any measure of solace from the hardships you have endured. Byleth, please," He allowed her space to look up at him, and though she'd opened her mouth to reassure him, he insisted, "I would not dare imagine that I could be by your side in every lifetime. Grant me this one life with you to shelter you from the pain of others."

She managed a smile, though her stomach felt tight with barely restrained emotion. Burrowing her face against his chest, she murmured,

"Alright Lorenz, you win. Thank you."

While Lorenz had always treated Byleth as precious, from that day forward, his conviction was given new life. Try as she may to tell him that he need not go to any great lengths for her, that she was happy just to spend this lifetime with him- nevertheless, he insisted on spoiling her. Ultimately, she knew that when the time came, she would walk into her next life with years of sweet and tender memories as comfort.


	4. Repentant - Seteth

Seteth was the first person Byleth told about her reincarnation cycle before becoming romantically involved. If anything, it was a precaution. The more she had felt herself pulled toward him, the more aware she became of the unique challenge pursuing him would present. After all, her life cycle only reset once the person she tied herself to passed away. Barring unforeseen circumstances, Seteth would not die for quite some time. Was she ready to live out that length of time before her next new beginning?

Stolen glances amidst prayer sessions and distracted, daydream filled seminars told her that perhaps she was.

Naturally, he was hesitant to believe her story. It may have been solely because of his own strange existence that he was even willing to entertain the idea. He had asked for time to think over all she had told him, and for the next week or so, she couldn't help but notice him keeping quite a close eye on her. She didn't mind, of course; she knew that it was not in Seteth's nature to offer trust outright, and she was asking quite a bit of him now. Aside from this, having him so near did certainly lend some clarity to her own feelings.

By the time they next spoke, he said,

"On observing you these past days, I am forced to acknowledge that your explanation is the only way to make sense of certain things about you."

That had piqued Byleth's interest. On pressing further, he explained,

"You react with almost alarming stoicism to events in Fodlan that shake and unsettle others. Your seemingly precognitive knowledge of major turns in battle and politics, your exhaustive understanding of the habits, strengths, weaknesses and so on of your allies- even an encyclopedic memorization of their favorite meals- these all would be perfectly reasonable if we are to assume that you have lived all of these events before, ad nauseum. The base premise is absurd," he added, "but it does fit neatly into what I know of you."

These were some disarmingly poignant observations. Byleth thought now that she knew how students felt when Seteth started digging into their personas. No wonder so many found him intimidating.

"And…" he went on, shaking Byleth from her thoughts, "If I may venture one more guess, it seems that you find great comfort in the companionship of your allies. For however many lives you claim to have led, you continue to invest yourself in their wellbeing, and develop your bonds with them. To that end, do let me know if I may be of any help to you. That is all."

Two years after that conversation, Byleth awoke on her side of their shared bed, groaned and groggily rubbed her eyes and forehead. She turned toward his side and reached out to pull his pillow to her chest. The warmth of her husband's body had long faded from the sheets, but the smell of church incense that clung to his skin and hair had made a home on his pillowcase. Smiling, she cuddled it close, and allowed herself a little while longer in bed.

Just as sleep had nearly reclaimed her, Byleth's brows furrowed with a thought.

_It's still dark. It's not morning yet. Where _is _Seteth?_

With a grunt, she pushed herself upright and looked bleary-eyed around the room. Not a trace to be found of him. Gracelessly, she kicked her feet over the side of the bed and persuaded herself to stand. It must be past midnight, by her general estimation, and he must still be at work in his office. She sighed.

"He's hopeless…"

Boots, black shorts and undershirt- that should be enough just to go check up on him. The night carried a slight chill, so she tossed an evening robe around her as well, tying it loosely at the waist. The harsh echo of her heels on stone floors in the empty corridors made her a touch self-conscious, but it seemed no one was awake to mind.

The moment Seteth's office was in sight, her suspicions were confirmed. From the hall, she could see the glow of candles lit around the room. When she reached the door, she found him weary-eyed, but keen focused, staving off sleep with long-practiced ease as he poured over paperwork. Byleth's lips tightened and she crossed her arms. It must be his Nabatean blood that gave him such stamina, but his wife could think of several better uses for it than bureaucracy.

"My dear Saint Cichol…" she crooned, finally stepping into his office and pulling the door shut behind her. He gave a start at first, but his creased brows soon softened at the sight of her. Then, he gave a short laugh,

"You only ever call me that when I'm in trouble."

Byleth came to stand next to him, leaning her backside against the edge of his desk, arms still crossed and an admonishing look in her eyes.

"You're doing it again," she said, then added, "Working yourself ragged." He opened his mouth to protest, but instead simply sighed and sat back in his chair. Byleth smiled gently and brought a hand to brush forest green hair back behind a pointed ear. He tilted his head into her touch, but his hands still hovered over his desk holding his quill and a small stack of forms.

"I am just finishing up a few last-minute application reviews, my love," he glanced up at her apologetically, "I won't be long, I promise."

"And who, might I ask, will be in mortal peril if those applications wait for you to get some sleep?" she was certain he recognized the sharp edge of her 'teacher voice,' and knew that he still was not immune to its effects. He kissed the inside of her wrist, and simply repeated,

"I won't be long."

"Seteth," Byleth huffed and withdrew her hand, crossing her arms once more, "Honestly, sometimes I think I'd have to tie you up to keep you from working yourself to death."

Eyes back on the papers before him, Seteth said without a thought,

"Well, one mustn't mix work and pleasure, I'm afraid."

Silence. Byleth quirked a single eyebrow, the smallest hint of a smirk curling her lips. Looking down at him, the warm glow of candlelight could camouflage the blush across his cheeks, but not the burning red at the tip of his ear. Evidently, he had just begun to fully process his own words.

"So…" Byleth began, urging him back in his seat once more with a hand on his shoulder, "You're saying you would like that? Being tied up?" Seteth avoided her gaze, even as she ran her fingertips along his jawline, playing lightly across his beard.

"I, well, in so many words, I- suppose…" he mumbled, flipping aimlessly through the remaining papers. A sinful grin played across Byleth's lips, and she could already feel the excitement of this discovery warming her body. She guided his hands to the desk, silently instructing him to put his work to rest for the time being. Astonishingly, he obeyed.

"What a scandalous surprise," she said, her voice sweet and light as she discarded her robe on the desk, "Maybe what the Church's right-hand really needs is to have someone else be in charge for a bit." Finally, she could see thoughts of forms and applications fading from his emerald eyes as hunger crept into them. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing handsomely, and said at a near whisper,

"My love…"

Byleth circled behind him, then ran her hands up along his shoulders, feeling him sit rigid at her touch. With torturously slow movements, she slid her hands down the front of his body, pressing firm along the swell of his chest under his robes. She spoke softly, letting her breath tease the shell of his ear from behind,

"Would you like that, dear? To let me take over and tell you what to do?" he managed to keep his breathing steady, but she could feel his heart pounding up to his throat. She leaned against him, letting him feel the weight of her breasts against his back as she continued to occupy her hands with his body.

"Byleth, you don't have to- that is, there is no need for you to go out of your way for my… psychological predilections."

The gentle brush of her lips and her soft laugh against his ear managed to force the slightest hint of a groan from him. He was always so wonderfully sensitive on those ears of his.

"It's not like it wouldn't be plenty of fun for me, too," she said, granting the point of his ear one quick, sharp bite, causing him to lurch back with a silent gasp, "I have to punish you for working yourself so hard, afterall." With this, she slipped back to his side and leaned in to kiss his neck, all the while her fingertips glided down the center of his body. "Do you want it, Seteth? Do you want me to use you for my satisfaction until you beg forgiveness?"

By the time her hand reached the bulge between his legs, he was half erect and twitching eagerly for her. She moaned lusciously into his ear at this- at the knowledge that, past his strict exterior, he longed to be dominated by her. His hips urged just slightly upward to her touch, but she withdrew.

"You have to tell me, love."

"Yes, I..." he trailed off, but he met her gaze and she could finally see his facade crumbling. Her stoic, austere husband wanted her to make him her toy. Byleth leaned forward to place a deceptively chaste kiss on his lips.

"Promise me two things," she said as she twirled a lock of his hair between her fingers, "The first is that you'll tell me the moment something goes too far."

Seteth nodded breathlessly. She pressed her lips to his once more, this time with an unmistakable heat. He leaned into her, but she pulled away, leaving his dampened lips parted.

"The second is that you'll behave, and be an obedient plaything for me."

Something like a high whine caught in the back of his throat, and he mouthed '_yes_,' silently. Byleth chewed at her bottom lip. That longing look in his eyes was enough to flood her lower body, but she needed to keep composure. If he was going to be stubborn about his work, then she would have to wear him out- and that would take some doing.

Putting on the confidence she carried with her into battle, she seated herself on his desk, then placed a heeled boot on each of the armrests of his chair.

"Start by getting yourself ready for me," she said, leering down at him, "Robes off, shirt too. Then you'll get your orders."

"I, ah, yes, of course-"

A heel dug against his chest, pinning him to the chair and grinding into flesh just enough to sting a little. Seteth gasped and met her eyes with a simply adorable mixture of confusion and pleasure.

"If we're going to do this, you'll have to address me with more respect."

"Yes… yes ma'am," he corrected, the blush across his face now clearly visible even in the dim glow of his office. She smirked devilishly and released him to work on undressing himself, foot now back on the armrest. With uncharacteristically clumsy hands, Seteth opened the series of buttons down his robe, then undershirt, discarding both to drape from the chair behind him. His body was gorgeous as ever. All but the worst of battle scars had healed well on him, leaving his skin warm and smooth across rippling muscle. She had always liked how powerful and masculine he looked under those conservative robes he wore, and she liked being the only person to see it. Byleth eyed him with blatant lust, letting him feel the burn of her gaze as he looked up at her for approval.

She glanced down, saw his manhood stirring to life within the confines of his pants, and practically licked her lips at the thought. He was already enjoying being dominated.

"Now, take out that big, lewd cock of yours and stroke it for me," she commanded, luxuriating upon each filthy word as she spoke. He gaped somewhat at the bold demand, but obeyed nonetheless, unfastening and pulling down the front of his pants to reveal his hardening member. Even only partially alert, it was impressive, and Byleth hummed happily at the sight as he began to run a tentative hand over its length.

"Like- like this, ma'am?" he murmured, even as he swelled and stiffened in his own hand. She gave an encouraging moan in reply, and parted her legs a little wider in front of him. Slowly, she slid her fingers down past the hem of her shorts to rub idle circles against her sex.

"Just like that," she said, smirking as his eyes became fixated on the subtle movements of her hand, "What a wonderful sight- my stern, handsome husband begging my approval while playing with his cock for me." Byleth continued to egg him on by gently rubbing herself, but this was mostly for show, and to relieve just a little of the erotic tension of seeing him like this. Seteth groaned through his teeth, his touch firmer around his shaft, his pace a little quicker.

"That wasn't a very saintly sound," she teased, "I wonder what your precious flock would think if they could see you like this."

"Byleth-!" he gasped, his cock throbbed, near rock-hard now.

"What do you think, pet? Should I leash you and show you off to the masses? Come on, answer me," she added with a snap.

"I... Please, I..." he breathed out, lips stalled, parted in silent panting moans. Already, his strokes had become erratic, his body anxiously shifting into his hand. His member was fully erect now, long and bulging thick. He was, in truth, one of the biggest Byleth had ever had, which made his submission all the more delicious. Though, he was still holding onto some sense of restraint; she wanted him to completely relax into the role, to hand over control entirely. She would just have to help him get there.

"Seteth. Look at me." she said, barely above a whisper. When he did, the mere sight of his expression caused Byleth to moan happily and run her fingers down over the warmth between her thighs. The mature and burdened soul behind his eyes had long since captivated her, but now they were tinted with desperate wants and needs on the verge of boiling over. His lips moved near imperceptibly, and she wondered if his wavering dignity had him murmuring prayers, or incoherent pleas. By now, he had coaxed a bit of pre-cum from the tip of his cock, yet he managed to maintain eye contact regardless.

"Good boy…" she murmured, "You can stop now, pet."

With one, then two more long, hard pulls at his shaft, the holy man relaxed back into his seat with a smothered sigh and a half-pained expression. She grinned as Seteth took a breath, and seemed to regain a semblance of presence of mind. Scooting off of the desk, Byleth paced behind his chair to tug his belt from the clothing behind him. As she examined the length, then gave it an experimental tug and nodded, he said,

"It's… bizarre, I've- I've never felt anything quite like this," he cleared his throat, "Like I am… helpless, but glad of it."

"That's because you're stubborn." Byleth replied bluntly leaning down to kiss his hair. Then, the playful lilt returned to her voice, "But we're going to break you of that tonight, aren't we? Hands behind your back."

Seteth leaned forward and crossed his wrists behind him. This compliance earned him a few trite words of praise and a mockingly light kiss at his shoulder that nonetheless sent a shiver down his spine. To his surprise, she began by slipping the belt around his neck, before leading both ends down to wrap around his wrists. Once secured there, he quickly noted that letting his arms relax would tug uncomfortably at his throat. As such, he was forced to keep his posture tight, muscles tensed. All the while, his cock remained exposed, hard and swaying before him, pulled down slightly by its own size and weight.

The silken fabric of Byleth's night robe caught her eye in the flickering candlelight, sparking one more perverse idea to try. She moved lazily, playing with the fabric of the ribbon around the garment's waist, letting her husband feel the anticipation of watching her while bound. True to his disposition, Seteth was not easy to provoke, but once riled, he had immense stamina and focus. His wife smiled privately as she imagined his frustration; ordinarily, by the time she'd driven him to this state of arousal, he'd carried her to their bed to ravish her. Perhaps knowing this was what made teasing him so enjoyable.

Taking care to ensure he could see her clearly, she pulled the silken belt used to tie the robe into her hands, satisfied that its smooth texture would bind him, but not hurt him. When she turned to him, she caught him impatiently biting at his bottom lip as he watched her. She approached, and, to his evident surprise, lowered to her knees between his legs. Delicately, she wound the length of fabric around the base of his shaft, leaving it loose for the time being. She heard his sharp breath and glanced up to check on him. He bit his lip once more, but said nothing, and even urged his lower body a little closer to her. After rewarding him with a gentle kiss at the tip of his cock, she very slowly pulled at the ribbon, letting it glide across his skin.

"Haa…" Seteth sighed into the cool night air, his body arched, but he kept himself composed enough not to tug at the binding around his neck.

"Mmm… what a good boy you are," Byleth gushed, granting his tip a deeper, more lavish kiss as the ribbon gradually drew in around him, "If only everyone could see you like this. So strong in battle and yet so docile when I tease your naughty cock." Finally, the silk tie was snug around him at the base, tight enough for him to feel constricted, though not enough to cause him actual pain. Taking her time with fleeting brushes of her fingertips and the lightest brushes of her lips against him, she tied the ribbon into a bow. It was quite a sight; the feminine texture and shine of the fabric around his huge, masculine member, the way his girth resisted and swelled against its hold.

Starting just above his bondage, Byleth dragged the flat of her tongue up along his length to the crown. Seteth's lips hung slightly parted, his chest rose and fell with the subtle panting of his breath. Still focusing solely on her tongue, she traced the ridge, running firmly along the outline of his head. His cock throbbed conspicuously, and she smirked.

"You know, Seteth, I think it's time you make a formal confession," she said, then flicked her tongue along his slit. He groaned, shifted his hips a little, but he managed,

"If… If that is what you ask of me, my love."

"It is," Byleth held the base of his cock steady, pumping it slightly even over its gentle bindings, "In fact, if you can't recite a Prayer for Forgiveness before I decide I'm done sucking you off, I"ll punish you."

"Yes…!" he nearly moaned aloud, and dared to push his hips up toward her. She dug her nails just the slightest bit against the inside of his thigh, and he quickly forced himself back into place. "Aah… yes, ma'am…" he murmured, tamed for the time being. Holding his line of sight, Byleth wrapped her lips around the tip of his manhood. Applying generous pressure, she took him in until she had the full head in her mouth, but no more. He groaned, but understood her pause as instruction to begin.

"Merciful Goddess, mother of ah- aah…!" Seteth's voice faded into a pleasurable sigh as she pulsed her lips and tongue around him. He took a breath, and pressed on, "mo-mother of all… I place myself at your alter to- to humbly offer my sins." the last few words were stuttered out so quickly they were near unintelligible. Byleth breathed out a soft laugh against him, her warm breath fluttering along sensitive skin. Glancing upward, she saw his strong body tensed and restless with excitement and delicious discomfort. Refocusing on her task, she used her tongue to press him against the roof of her mouth as she worked her way further down his length. At last, he uttered an earnest groan of pleasure, head tilting back as he felt himself squeezed tight in her throat.

"Forgive…" he whispered up to the ceiling, "Forgive my transgressions of mind, b-body and soul… Nng-! Com-Committed of- mm!" Byleth bobbed her head up and down on his cock, slowly at first, but quickly picking up pace. Seteth gasped aloud, rocking his lower body into her as the slick warmth of her mouth and throat edged him closer and closer to relief. Suddenly, she forced herself downward, taking his impressive size in nearly to the root. His cock twitched, throbbed, ached. If he weren't tied around the base, he may have cum right then. Then, she pulled away. Seteth let out a labored breath with a whimper, looking down at her with desperate adoration.

"Committed… of my own failing," he whispered, then swallowed hard, blinked away the haze in his eyes and did his best to recall the next lines.

"You're doing such a good job for me," Byleth praised him gently, as though she hadn't been torturing him to the verge of climax moments prior, "Go on, you're almost done." She slowly kissed a path up the curve of his shaft as he collected himself. By the time she had the head cradled once more between her lips, he managed to press on,

"Cleanse me of my iniquity, I pray," the line was said with surprising clarity, but when his eyes lowered seeking hers, she recognized the look of complete submission and felt her own arousal spike at the sight. Giving a soft moan of her own that vibrated along his flesh, she began to more earnestly pleasure him. She sucked eagerly on his rigid manhood, savoring the slight taste of precum at the back of her throat, and his helpless gasps and moans. Gripping his pants over his thighs on either side of her, she rubbed him up and down with lips and tongue, and it wasn't long until he was aching for release once again.

"Gra… Grant me… Mmm, yes….! Goddess, so close-!" Seteth's voice cracked a little, and briefly, she felt him struggle against the bonds at his wrists. Ordinarily, he liked to stroke her head, her hair, her face, and admire her openly with his touch when she took him in her mouth. He tried to buck his hips towards her, but she carefully regulated how she pleasured him, keeping strict control and ensuring that he wouldn't reach his climax- not like this. His task eventually returned to mind, and he forced his voice to cooperate,

"Grant me the strength, and…" his pleading eyes locked with hers, "-and the humility to serve your will-!"

Having concluded the prayer, he let out a deep sigh of relief, but was cut short when she forced him once more deep into her throat. This time, she swallowed around him, letting him feel the intense pressure constricting around his tip. Groaning out her name, his body tensed once more, but she pulled away before he could cross the edge. Finally, she released him, leaving him dazed and struggling to catch his breath.

"Not bad, pet," once more, Byleth ran a fingertip from his base to his tip, then got to her feet in front of him, "Though… Isn't it 'your divine will," at the end there?"

"I, well…" he trailed off. As realization dawned on him, he gave a short, if bashful laugh, and shook his head, "You are correct- the prayer was re-translated to match the specificity of the original Nabatean roughly forty years...ago." he finished lamely as she turned around to slide her shorts and underwear down her legs, intentionally giving him the best view possible of the process. While he could not reach out to hold her, his eyes blatantly worshipped her, running loving paths down the curves of her ass and down her thighs.

Byleth turned to him, hardly able to contain her mischievous smirk, and lifted herself up onto his desk once more. Frankly, she was astonished that Seteth had nothing to say about her careless treatment of his paperwork. With legs crossed, she said,

"You know, of course, that this means you'll have to be punished."

He made no reply but a steady nod.

"Come here," she said, slowly opening her thighs before him and running a hand down to meet the already wet lips of her pussy. He began to lean forward, pushing himself up a bit in his chair, until he felt Byleth's harsh grip on his hair. Fingers tangled into the green locks, she tugged him toward her, pulling him halfway to his knees before yanking his head upward between her legs. She nearly shivered when he moaned in response, his heavy breath warming her lower body, the sound alone enough to make her tremble.

"You're going to be very, very good to me with that tongue of yours, understand?" she said, tugging him closer by his hair. The heels of her boots came to rest on his shoulder blades as her free hand parted her soaked folds. Without further instruction, Seteth leaned in and pressed his lips to her with a groan, plunging his tongue forward into her entrance. Byleth gasped aloud and arched back, fingernails dragging along his scalp. Still lapping at the inner walls of her pussy, he leaned in further, his upper lip pressing against her clit.

"Aah-! Mmm, yes, just like that!" she moaned, grinding her hips slowly into his desperate movements. The thought occurred to her that if this were any other man, she might think he'd made that misstep in his prayer intentionally, specifically to gain this punishment. By now, he had fallen entirely to his knees, and from this angle, Byleth could enjoy the erotic motions of his jaw and the intense furrow of his brow. He pushed himself against her, servicing her devoutly and letting out beautiful, contented groans all the while.

Humming happily, she pulled him up to focus entirely on her clit, and he obeyed with all the humble dedication of a true believer. His tongue pulsed around her, lovingly stroking and rubbing her precious bud until she began to whimper above him.

"Yes…!" she just barely heard him utter before he kissed her clit, his powerful shoulders straining for a moment against his bondage, "Please… please…!" Soon enough, his pleading whispers melted into his servitude between her thighs. Each firm pass of his tongue sent a jolt up her spine, and Byleth felt her climax rapidly building. Finally, his lips sealed around her clit and the surrounding sensitive flesh, and his tongue flicked and stroked her harder, faster, until she threw her head back and gasped his name, letting her orgasm flood her senses. Her heels dug into Seteth's shoulders, but this only provoked his pleasurable sighs against her skin, teasing her through her climax until, gradually, the sparkling sensation began to subside.

"Ha… Mm, what a good boy," she praised breathlessly, gently pulling him away from her and gazing down at him with open affection, "You look so cute covered in my cum." For a moment, she simply admired him on his knees below her while she caught her breath. Glancing downward, she saw that his solid erection hadn't wavered in the slightest.

"Sit again," she said firmly, "you need just a little more punishing."

He did, and Byleth followed, situating herself on his lap the moment he'd settled. Her hands ran fondly up his shoulders, along the sides of his neck, and she basked in the sinful sight of his reddened lips coated in her own juices. All the while, she felt his manhood pressing into her, lonely and begging for relief. With her well-trained strength, she positioned herself over the member which longed so desperately for her attention. Her free hand nudged at his jawline, urging him to look her in the eye as she sunk down onto him. His lips parted, his gaze silently pleaded for her as he entered her inch by inch until he was buried in her to the hilt, the ribbon there pushed downward, though it still held him. Byleth let out a pleased whimper amidst her husband's strained groans, and gave herself a moment to adjust to his girth as he swelled out against her. It had to be some sort of cruel irony for such a pious man to have such an erotic body.

"This… doesn't feel like punishment…" Seteth whispered, though the coy grin on his lover's lips was not lost on him.

"Oh, it is," she murmured, and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep, even moaning into him a little as her tongue passed his lips and he received it gratefully. His submission was clear even in his kiss, now; he let her lead, reciprocating but careful to never overstep his bounds. He hardly struggled against his bindings, apparently having accepted them entirely. She wondered whether this lovely temperament would endure. Parting from him just enough to speak, she said,

"You are forbidden from moving your body even a single inch until I say so, understand? And if I feel you try to thrust even once, I won't let you cum at all tonight." She felt him twitch inside of her and bit her lip at the pleasure of him straining against her inner walls. He nodded, then dutifully added,

"Ye-Yes, ma'am…"

"Good," she settled onto him, letting her body weight rest on his lap and causing his cock to push all the way into her until she felt the tip at her core. She sighed happily, certain to show Seteth exactly how much she adored the feeling of him filling her up. Her hands stroked his hair gently, her touch a saccharine contrast to her words, "I'm going to use you, Seteth. I'm going to make you my obedient sex toy, and if you behave for me, once I'm satisfied, perhaps I'll untie you and let you fuck me. Do you want that, pet?"

His voice came out like a growl through his teeth,

"Goddess, yes… please…" his head tilted back and he took a breath, willing himself to remain still despite how Byleth's warmth squeezed wonderfully around his manhood, "Use… use me…" he repeated as though in a trance. Both of her hands dragged fingernails slowly down his torso, letting the dull sting linger on each inch of flesh as they passed. Goosebumps rose across his skin, his abdomen flexed, but he remained in place. His plea echoed in her mind. He hadn't begged to fuck her- he had begged to be used.

One wandering hand made its way back up to his chest, enjoying the curve of battle hardened muscle before circling a single finger gently around his nipple. First, she flicked her fingernail against it lightly, teasing him until his mouth hung open in whimpered pleasure. Once satisfied, she held it between her fingertips and tugged at the nub, forcing a gasp out of him and causing him to throb almost uncomfortably hard inside of her. Byleth freely let out her delighted moans at his member eagerly rubbing itself into her as she continued to play with his sensitive nipples.

"Mmm, your huge cock feels so good, my pet," she gushed, "Your body is so lewd, you know that? Such a naughty, sinful body, just made to be used for pleasure…" her hands let up at his chest, and she leaned against him, letting him feel her breasts against him while shifting her lower body around him. His posture remained tight in his efforts to control himself, while her movements were slow, luxurious even. Her lips met his collarbone and kissed a line along its contour, beginning gentle and escalating until she reached the front of his neck. There, she bit down and sucked at the skin, causing it to redden almost immediately.

"C-Careful…" he whispered, and she gave a short laugh. She kissed the side of his neck with feigned innocence, and rocked her hips toward him, then back, rubbing him against the bumps and wet heat of her pussy. His body shuddered, and his words melted into mouthed cries of 'yes!' up toward the ceiling.

"You know I won't mark you anywhere it will be seen," she said, though she continued to sway her body and grind onto his cock like her own sex toy, "Your flock all see you as so far above sin- we can't have them knowing you're my kinky little pet."

"Byleth, I… Haa-! I beg of you-!"

"Then beg." she countered, and pressed her lips to the tender bit of skin just below his earlobe. Uttering a throaty groan, he stuttered out,

"I- I want… By-Byleth, please, let me… feel you cum...!" that wasn't quite what she had expected to hear. She'd been ready for him to ask to be in control again, to hold her and make love to her. But in his complete submission, what he wanted enough that he would beg and plead for it was to feel her pleasure around him. This realization alone flooded Byleth's body with a new urgent heat, and she felt that perhaps she could grant this one request. With slow, deliberate movements, she rode back and forth on his length, now letting her pleasure build in earnest, the wonderful tension sending shocks up her spine.

"What an obedient, subservient thing you are," she half-moaned her words into his ear, even now relishing the scent of his hair and the beautiful sighs and whimpers he couldn't quite contain. She could tell that she was already close, and it wouldn't take much persuading to push her to her climax. Moving slowly enough that Seteth could appreciatively watch, she slid two fingers down the front of her body and pressed them firmly around her clit, trapping it within the pressure between the two digits. Her husband moaned her name in blatant and unabashed desperation, hypnotized by the sensual pulse of her fingertips against her sex. Byleth did her best to hold out just a little while longer, to make him wait while she used his body for her own pleasure- but it seemed all of the time spent teasing him had its impact on her as well. She wondered if he realized the irresistible effect his reactions had on her; in the moment the sparking, tingling feeling of her peak began to overtake her, it nearly felt as though his eager submission in fact had her in his control.

"Aahh-! Yes! Cu-Cumming…!" Byleth let her head tilt back, pale green hair spilling down her back as her thighs trembled beneath her. His thick manhood throbbed inside of her, responding gladly to the shivering, tightening warmth as she came, harder now than earlier in the evening. Cumming around his cock, feeling it resist her twitching, squeezing muscles, knowing that Seteth could feel her body adoring his, all overwhelmed her until her eyes rolled back and her lungs burned. Letting out happy gasps and sighs, she prolonged her orgasm, rhythmically fucking herself on his length, now soaked with her juices and his own precum. Finally, her breathing steadied somewhat and she settled against his strong body. She murmured fond praises to him, placing loving, tender kisses along his neck and ears.

Seteth's chest thudded heavily beneath her with his erratic heartbeat. When she met his gaze, it was clear that he was barely holding on to the last vestiges of his restraint. Misted green eyes wordlessly implored her for mercy, and at long last, she was willing to oblige.

Carefully, she pulled up off of him, shakily steadying herself on her feet. She'd thought she would be used to the sudden emptiness of his thick manhood leaving her by now, but it was a sensation she never truly adjusted to. Part of her hoped she never would.

"Well, my pet," Byleth said, leaning forward over him and taking the end of the ribbon around his shaft daintily between her fingers, "Do you think it's time for me to untie you?"

"'Byleth…" he murmured with a strange growl in his tone, "If you free me, do I have your express permission to hold nothing back?"

His wife responded first by tugging at the end of the fabric binding his cock, loosening it from him all at once. Seteth gritted his teeth with a groan, the rush of circulation back to his tortured member an almost overwhelming relief. His chest rose and fell, and he bit at his lip, brow deeply creased. A gentle touch at his jawline guided him to look up at her,

"I'd like nothing better," Byleth replied at last. He managed to temper the excitement rushing through his veins just long enough for her to reach behind him and slip open the buckle of the belt wound about his arms. Once slack, he made short work of his bindings, pulling it from his throat and tossing it to the ground. Then, he stood, and he bent her over his desk without so much as a word.

She gave a coy laugh; Seteth had never manhandled her quite like this before, and even she was surprised by how she enjoyed it. Perhaps next time, he could dominate her. There was little time to mull over that delicious scenario, however, as she felt the bulging head of his cock, impatient at her entrance. In one forceful push, he speared into her to his base, and she let out a high whimper she'd hardly thought herself capable of. Having only just left him, her body gladly welcomed his full length inside once more. She was soaking wet and warm, coiling tight around him and clinging to his every contour, fitting around him perfectly. His touch was greedy and unrestrained, and she felt both hands on her ass, gripping rippling fat and muscle that responded so beautifully to his every impassioned thrust.

"Ye… Yesss…!" she cried out, lungs burning as he pounded her against the desk, "Harder…! Fu- fuck me, Seteth!"

The holy man snarled through clenched teeth, but he never let his eyes stray from the sight before him. His wife, flush with pleasure, mewling and crying for him, splayed out over his desk as her legs shook from the force of his cock driving into her waiting pussy over and over. This strong, radiant woman, who seemed to know his body's wants and needs even before he did- her torture had pushed him beyond his impeccable self-restraint. A primal sort of energy drove him now, an instinct he had not felt since long before he'd lost the ability to transform. Byleth sensed it, too, in the way he held her almost painfully tight, how already, his bucking hips had him bottoming out inside of her, hitting all the way at her core and sending jolts of pain and pleasure up through her gut. Her eyes watered at this raw intensity, and it was all she could manage just to keep her legs steady enough to prop herself up for him.

That was soon to be an unnecessary effort. Seteth's hands slid down the thick curve of her ass to her hips to hold her on each side, never once easing his powerful thrusts aided by the slick of her cum coating his manhood. Soon, she realized that he gripped her so tight that he was more or less holding her in place on his own, whether or not he even knew it himself. His member dragged along her inner walls, hard as steel and curving up to rub his head against her with every pass. All the while, she felt his balls, swollen and heavy with his pent-up lust, slapping against her clit. Her lips parted, but her voice failed her, leaving her silently gasping for him as he chased his long-denied pleasure. Byleth allowed her body to relax onto the desk, letting Seteth bring both of them closer and closer to release. If she had known it would get him to fuck her like this, she would have tied him up a long time ago.

"Byleth," he spoke behind her, his voice low, yet undeniably needy, "Please… t-tell me to cum… order me…!"

She felt her lower body tighten around him, the thrill of his subservient request pushing her to the edge of yet another orgasm. Even ramming her now dripping wet pussy, he longed to be dominated. Through the dizzying haze of her own pleasure, she barely managed,

"Cu-Cum for me, pet! Use that big cock to- to fill me up wi… with your cum…!"

She heard his breath hitch, felt his hands flex against her, holding her body flush to his, then, his heat spilling out deep inside of her. A jumbled mess of "yes!" and her name fell from his lips, and he leaned forward, pinning her more firmly to the hardwood. The length of his shaft throbbed and swelled against her insides, pushing her to her own shuddering climax as he filled her. The muscles and contours of her pussy squeezed him, massaging him and milking out every drop of his cum. At last, Byleth slumped fully onto the surface of his desk. Her knees threatened to buckle beneath her, but Seteth held fast, propping her up until, with a final throaty groan, he poured out the last of his climax within her.

The pair shared a heavy sigh, basking in their relief and the dull ache of their spent bodies. Seteth ran a reverent hand over the curve of her hips, caressing her with far more characteristic tenderness. Slowly, he pulled his cock from her, then swallowed, caught his breath, and worked on fixing his breeches while Byleth collected herself. She noticed with an odd sort of pride that he had filled her so thoroughly that she could feel a bit of his cum dripping lazily down her inner thigh. She shakily pushed herself up from the desk and turned to him.

"That was incredible," she said with a contented smile, pulling him to her and brushing her lips tenderly to his. Some selfish part of her wanted to distract him from clothing himself, to relish the feeling of his warm, muscular body in her hands for a little while longer.

"I am happy to have served you to your satisfaction, my love," Seteth replied warmly. His arms pulled her with him down onto his chair, drawing her onto his lap and embracing her. She leaned into him, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Her fingertips played across his impeccably groomed strip of facial hair, and she said sweetly,

"So, ready to get some sleep?"

He chuckled, nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

"Do you mean to say that you seduced me from my work to tire me out?"

"That may have been part of the plan," Byleth said, then kissed the soft green hair at its part, "it was either fuck you to exhaustion, or I was going to tell Flayn on you for working past midnight again." He laughed again, his breath brushing her skin

"Goddess have mercy. I would never hear the end of it."

"Exactly," Byleth ruffled his hair playfully, "come on, let's get you to bed."

Byleth woke groggily and stretched her limbs across the length of the bed before curling back up on her side. She was awake, but that didn't mean she intended to wake up just yet. If the light assaulting her eyelids was any indication, it was morning, though not terribly late. Still, though decades of marriage had come and gone, certain habits die harder than whole armies, and so her workaholic husband was bound to be at his desk by now. Her hands groped clumsily beside her for Seteth's pillow. Instead, to her surprise, they landed on Seteth himself, blindly fondling some part of him.

"Hm?" she blinked her sleep-blurred eyes open to find herself holding onto his upper thigh. He sat upright on his side of the bed and had pulled his focus from the book in his hands to watch her with visible amusement.

"Good morning, my love." he said, lowering a hand to brush away messy pale-green bangs. At first, the only reply she offered was a short grunt of acknowledgement, to which he smiled warmly, then turned his eyes back to his reading. Her face scrunched up, she yawned, and rubbed her eyes. Half articulate, she mumbled,

"What'er you doing in bed still…?"

"Today is the sixth day of the Great Tree Moon. You had requested that I take the day off from work today," he replied, closing the book in his hands and replacing it on his nightstand, "You neglected to tell me why today, in particular, but it has been some time since we had a day to ourselves."

_Sixth of… Great Tree Moon… oh!_

"That's right!" Byleth scrambled up out of the tangled mess of bedsheets and propped herself up on her knees, "Seteth, do you recall that whole reincarnation business I told you about?"

"It is difficult to put out of mind." he replied, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Well," she scooted herself closer to him, and he opened his arms to her, "Today is the first day that I've never lived before! It's completely new! I mean, as far as I can remember, anyway. But I'm pretty sure."

"Is that so?" Seteth held her around the waist while she made herself comfortable between his legs. "I do recall you saying that your life begins anew with the death of the person you dedicate yourself to. It is... perhaps expected that I would outlive others." Byleth rested her head on his shoulder, and the pair were quiet for a moment until Seteth asked,

"Are you frightened, not knowing what's to come from now?"

"A little," she admitted, and he held her tighter, "It's why I was so hesitant to tell you how I felt about you at first. But, you wore me down," she feigned a sigh, then kissed his neck lightly.

"How fortunate for me," he said with a laugh. His hand guided her chin up for their lips to meet, and she smiled into him. When they parted, she brushed her nose to his, saying,

"I'm also excited, you know."

Though his hands never left her sides, Byleth turned to face him, slung her legs over either side of his lap and straddled him so they could speak face to face. The back of her hand brushed along the line of his beard, and she went on,

"There's no one I'd rather have by my side for something completely new."

Seteth pulled her against him by her hips, pressing his lips to hers more deeply now. Between tender kisses, he whispered to her,

"Then that is where I will be- always. Whatever may come."

Byleth leaned her forehead against his, and allowed herself time to let her body rest on his sturdy frame. He supported her effortlessly. Truly, she thought, she could not face the unknown with a more steady, comforting companion. Admiring hands combed through his hair and down his shoulders, noting the muscles wound far too tight from days and nights over a desk. Then, her attention was drawn elsewhere, as she felt the tell-tale warmth and pressure of his manhood gradually hardening against her thigh. She hummed softly to herself, then said,

"So, how should we spend our day together? I can't squander the rare opportunity to have you to myself, afterall."

"Well, in honor of enjoying new experiences together," strong hands ran firmly up her sides and pulled her against him. He kissed the front of her neck, just above the dip of her collarbones, and his lips brushed her skin as he spoke, "I did have a few ideas that I would like to discuss with you at length."


	5. Equal - Jeritza

Their duel was meant to be to the death, but if that had been the case from the start, they wouldn't be fighting their fourth match now. The first two had ended at a draw; they were multiple hour affairs that left both fighters spent, no longer able to put forth the best of their technique, and thus, by Jeritza's decision, unable to fight properly. Those had been weeks ago. Afterward, Byleth had managed one narrow victory, but had refused to take her opponent's life. He had not agreed with that decision. Tonight, the evening of their fourth clash, his distaste for her choice was clear in every swing of his blade, powerful and precise, the steel a spinning razor whistling far too close for comfort. To add to this, the fighters had agreed to forgo most of their armor, allowing themselves to fight unencumbered, and well within the risk of fatal injury. Were either of them even a fraction less skilled, someone would have died by now by a mere fluke. Strangely, Byleth realized that their respective deadly precision was the only thing keeping both parties alive.

He lunged forward. She blocked, sidestepped, swung diagonally. She missed, just barely, and there was that strange feeling again.

_Damnit, I missed. Thank the Goddess I missed. _

She could not afford to pause- Jeritza wouldn't allow her the luxury. Pressing her momentum, she swung at him once, twice, and a third time, all more direct strikes. He swatted her blows away with ease, and she had expected as much. Byleth knew he far surpassed her in raw upper body strength. Straightforward attacks were less than useless, but she could at least keep his sword busy until she found her next angle.

When he deflected the third blow, he rallied his strength and pushed her blade askew with such force that it knocked her off balance. In the split second it took her to right her footing, he wound his sword arm back, and launched a deadly thrust. An opening! She was steady once more by the time the tip of his blade grazed her abdomen, tearing fabric and skin away with it as she dodged to the side. Nearly too quick to track, she dropped her weapon, grabbed hold of his arm, and pulled. In a fluid motion, she managed to drag him around her shoulder and to the ground on his back- no mean feat, given his height and strength.

Still, it would be foolish to think being grounded would stop Jeritza. His sword arm tensed, but by now, Byleth knew his instincts as well as her own. Her boot came down over his wrist, trapping it beneath the arch of her heel. The other knee dropped at his opposite side, pinning him beneath her. In an instant, the dagger at her belt was in hand. A flash of moonlight off of steel caught in his eye, reflecting back to hers.

"I've won." Byleth said flatly. The edge of her dagger pressed against his throat, fair skin yielding against it. Jeritza made no reply. He only watched her with mirror-like eyes that gazed outward and let nothing in.

"It would take less than an inch," Byleth's voice rose dangerously. The blade in her hand parted the shallowest layers of skin, drawing a paper-thin line of deep crimson along its edge, "Less than an inch to take you out of this world, Jeritza. Less effort than cutting through butter. Say something, damnit!"

The blade dug deeper. A single bead of his blood trailed lazily down the side of his neck.

"What will it take, Jeritza?!" she was shouting now, the words raw and scraping out of her lungs, "When will it be enough?! You _wound up_ for that last strike- don't think I didn't notice! You didn't need to, and you _gave _me the opening to retaliate, you miserable bastard! Are you looking for a real fight, or just chasing a suicide that the Death Knight will accept?!"

"You…" he finally spoke, his brows creasing together just slightly, "You're so beautiful…" he murmured. Byleth's eyes and throat burned. She angled the tip of her dagger toward his flesh, smearing his blood across pale skin. "So why does looking at you like this make me feel sick?"

Both were silent- hardly even breathed. The anger, confusion, desperation, all clawed at Byleth's insides and stalled her hand. Her head pounded, emotions rattling in her skull and against her ribs.

"Tch." she made what she hoped came across as a dismissive sound, and withdrew her dagger. When she stood, she kicked the sword from Jeritza's hand, though it hardly seemed necessary. He remained on his back, didn't move an inch. Byleth turned from him and called out,

"Mercedes. I know you've been watching," the woman in question peaked out from behind one of the columns surrounding the training grounds. She looked near tears, but she put on a brave front. Byleth approached her without looking back at her defeated opponent. It was difficult enough to meet his sister's eyes, far too similar to his own.

"He's fine," she said, "tend to his injuries, please."

Byleth turned on her heel and left without waiting for a reply.

Days passed. Meetings and training sessions and battles passed. In battle, nothing had changed, but back at the monastery, Byleth acutely felt the absence of the imposing figure constantly hounding her for fights. She hadn't realized how much she would miss it, but it was more disturbing to wonder what could have shaken his obsession. Perhaps she had crossed a line during that last duel- even someone like Jeritza must have a measure of pride to be wounded.

Byleth sighed and put down her quill beside the stack of training reports. She wasn't making much progress- less than a quarter of her way through the pile, in fact.

"_You're so beautiful…"_

Idiot. What a troublesome person to be drawn to. She rubbed her fingers hard against her brow, trying to relieve some of the tension held there. Why him? Why in this lifetime? She pushed her chair back from her desk, the feet scraping dully against wood, and stretched out her tired limbs.

_The way I am in this life… I guess it could only be him. _

Too many reincarnations, too many emotional attachments- too much noise. Jeritza was complex, but ultimately simple. He alone was her equal in strength, and that was all he had ever asked of her. Perhaps that was why being near him was so soothing. He never needed her to be anything other than what she already was- a fighter.

"... uuuuUUUUUGH." Byleth got to her feet with an escalating groan, nearly knocking over her chair, and headed out of her quarters for a walk. She wasn't getting anywhere with work in her current mindset. Maybe there would be something decent to snack on in the dining hall.

It was a short walk, but she stalled in the doorway. Someone else had the same idea, though by now it was nearly midnight. Byleth immediately recognized that silhouette by the window across the hall, but couldn't decide whether running into Jeritza now was a blessing or a curse. He spotted her before she made up her mind.

"What are you doing standing over there?"

Byleth breathed out from her nose. She approached, feeling strangely aware of her own body. Evidently, he had lit a few of the candles along the countertop at the end of the dining hall. Leaning against the stone beside an illuminated stained glass window, the moon and firelight split his face, pale blue and amber.

"I just… needed some fresh air, I guess," she said as casually as she could, "wasn't getting any work done, felt like a change of scenery. Oh, trying the new ice cream flavor? I-I heard they used mountain berries to make it really sweet."

"You're acting strange." Jeritza said bluntly, spoon hovering halfway between his mouth and the dish in his hand.

"You've been pretty weird lately, too." Byleth mumbled, crossing her arms and leaning along the wall opposite of the window from him, "haven't asked me to fight in over a week."

"I have not had the desire. Does that displease you?" his gaze pierced her, and she quickly turned her eyes out toward the darkness of the empty dining hall. It was always an eerie sight late in the night, stripped of the usual rumble of conversation and lively greetings, but their dimly lit corner felt quite warm. If it weren't for her strange, tangled emotional state, this may have been a pleasant rendezvous. Trudging past her hesitation, Byleth broke the silence,

"I'm… sorry about our last match."

"No need. Your performance was impressive as ever." he said distantly, his focus drawn back to the treat in his hands.

"That's not quite…" Byleth trailed off as she watched him take a few bites. She took a breath and tried again, "I spoke out of line. Come on, you even said looking at me made you sick."

The silence that followed was heavy, and filled her stomach with anxiety. Yet after a pause, Jeritza stepped forward, breaching the window's width that she'd kept between them until he loomed above her. Looking up at his eyes, she could not possibly parse what she saw in them. The air caught in her throat, then- something cold touched her bottom lip. She gave a start and her eyes darted down. He held out his spoon to her, offering a bit of the last remnants of his ice cream.

"Try it. It's quite good."

As if compelled, she parted her lips and let him guide the spoon to her. Her face warmed, and she felt so childish for allowing the thought of sharing a spoon with a man to excite her. He fed the dessert to her gently, giving her the time to savor it as it coated her tongue. Her face scrunched, then relaxed. Cold. Cold and so very sweet.

"Hm!" Byleth nodded, "Yeah, I like it." she smiled up at him a little awkwardly, and was shocked to see the slightest curve at the corner of his lips as well. Goddess. If he truly wanted to slay her, that would be his best weapon.

Jeritza left the spoon propped across the near-empty dish. His freed hand then reached out to her, and he leaned close. A single knuckle under her chin urged her to look up at him. Byleth instinctively closed her eyes, shifting forward on her toes to meet his height. Then, she felt a touch of warmth that started at the edge of her mouth and trailed down along the curve under her lower lip. His breath brushed her face as his tongue glided across her skin, sending Byleth's head spinning and her chest tightening into unbearable knots. Far too soon, he pulled away, and rubbed the calloused pad of his thumb over where his tongue had been.

"To think, you're such a clumsy eater." he mused, "I suppose I would never have learned that if you had cut my throat back then…" His hand withdrew, and he headed back around the counter as he finished the last of his midnight snack, leaving Byleth utterly flustered and perplexed behind him.

"I'm not clumsy, you just have bad aim." she grumbled, rubbing her arm absently.

"You know quite well that is not the case." Jeritza replied, his tone as somber and steady as ever. Leaving the used dishes to be cleaned in the morning, he made to head out from the dining hall towards his quarters. He paused at the doorway for a moment.

"I was not sickened to look at you. I only meant to say that… it made me uneasy to see you like that."

"That… doesn't really help." Byleth muttered to herself, as she watched his back vanish from her sight.

If Jeritza had been acting strange after their last match, he was even stranger after their shared dessert that evening. Byleth hardly caught a glimpse of him anymore, save for one instance when she noticed him sitting alone and enjoying that self-same ice cream. It made for an oddly nostalgic sight- one which reminded her of the first real conversation she'd had with him. One in which he'd expressed the value he placed on the chance to simply be Jeritza, and nothing else. Her pace slowed subconsciously on her way by his table, and she didn't realize she'd been smiling until he raised his head and locked eyes with her. In that moment, her body warmed and she suddenly felt excruciatingly self-conscious. She raised a hand stiffly and waved. His brows furrowed very slightly.

_Wow Byleth, very smooth. _

She cleared her throat and decided to head to the next strategy meeting a bit early.

Unfortunately, her mind wasn't done replaying that awkward encounter for her, even by the time she was back in her room to finish her work for the evening. Much of the night was spent wildly oscillating between scolding herself for behaving strangely around him and racking her brain for a way to make things right between them. Groaning out her frustration, she set her head down on her arms atop her desk.

"Byleth."

She lurched upright. That was definitely Jeritza's low baritone just outside her room. Patting down a couple loose strands of hair, she shot up to her feet, took a breath, and opened the door.

His tall frame filled the doorway. In his hands, Byleth noticed a dish of the ice cream she'd become quite familiar with, this time with two spoons. Jeritza entered her room closing the door behind him, and she instinctively backed up in step with him as if mirroring an opponent's footing.

"H-hi," Byleth said, "Did you need something, Jeritza?"

He held out a spoon to her, and she took it.

"Share this with me. You said you liked it, didn't you?"

"Uh, yes- yes I did." she looked him up and down. Had he just come from his own room? He was barefoot, and wearing only his black pants and a loose undershirt that bared a tempting bit of skin down his neck, collarbones and a hint of his chest. It was an attractive sight, to be sure, but he looked like he had been trying to sleep- prior to a visit to the dining hall, of course.

She followed him over to the far end of her room by the windows, where he found a small bit of the cabinets' surface that wasn't covered in books and paperwork, and sat down. Byleth more or less hovered nearby, taking tentative bites of ice cream from the bowl in his hand, and trying to ignore how the taste kept reminding her of his tongue at the corner of her lips. The silence was gradually wearing on her, but if Jeritza had come to see her for some purpose, she would let him be the one to guide the conversation. He took his time, however, and she nearly caved to her anxiety when he finally said,

"It does not trouble me to imagine you in physical pain."

"I'm flattered, truly." Byleth muttered.

"You are a creature of war, like myself," he went on, "I know your tolerance for physical pain. You can endure it, and move past it."

Well, that did at least sound more like an actual compliment. It certainly was by Jeritza's warped standards. They were quiet for a time, until he spoke again,

"And yet… I was deeply unsettled to see you in pain by the end of our last battle. A different kind of pain, and one that I alone had inflicted on you."

Byleth's brows furrowed deeply, and she watched him take his next few bites. He never raised his eyes, and seemed to be putting all of his focus into articulating this challenging idea. But… really, wasn't he just saying that he didn't like making her sad? She would have laughed if she weren't so taken aback by this whole situation. Without thinking, she took a step towards him. Even sitting, his eyes were nearly level with hers.

"Is that what's been on your mind all this time?" she asked.

"There is… one other matter." he said, noticeably hesitant, "This ice cream has not tasted the same since the night I first tried it. I cannot fathom why that may be. Unless…"

A strong arm caught her around the waist and pulled her to him, and she stumbled forward. Byleth felt her cheeks burning as he held her between his legs, their bodies only inches apart. His free hand placed the dish of ice cream beside where he sat, then took the spoon from her hands, filled it, and brought it to her lips. That this would be the second time he fed her like this certainly didn't help calm her nerves, but she opened her mouth obediently regardless.

This time, the moment she began to enjoy the over-sweet flavor, Jeritza pulled her close and brought her lips to his. His kiss was deep and erotic from the start; he slid effortlessly into her waiting mouth, running his tongue across hers and spreading the half-melted ice cream between them. The heat of his breath and the lingering cold, the sensual friction of their lips- it was overwhelming, and admittedly, not at all what Byleth had thought kissing Jeritza would be like. Despite herself, she let out a needy moan. His arm tightened around her, and she gladly leaned into him, willing her scattered mind to focus enough to reciprocate the wonderful movements of his lips and tongue.

Once sated, he pulled away just slightly, leaving her quite breathless as he murmured,

"Yes… much better. That is how it ought to taste. And that sound," Jeritza got to his feet and brought a hand to her cheek, lightly brushing his fingers across her skin, "I need to hear it again. That sound of pleasure…"

Byleth forced herself past her hesitation and grabbed two fistfulls of his shirt, pulling him down to her. He was silent, but his body responded immediately. One arm held her flush against his battle-hardened body while his free hand tangled uncharacteristically clumsy fingers through her hair. Their kiss was hungry, messy, baring needs that flared up faster than either of them could track. As her spinning thoughts caught up to her building arousal, she let her hands run up his hard, muscled chest and along his neck. Their height difference had her bent back over his arm, so she clung to his strong shoulders as he pressed into her. Loose strands of blonde hair trickled along the curve of her cheek and down her neck. She whimpered into his lips, her body burning for him already, and she felt a low rumble in his chest, like a growl kept barely contained. They forced themselves to part for just a moment, if nothing else to catch their breath.

She whispered his name. That simple sound seemed to provoke him all over again- suddenly, he couldn't touch enough of her, couldn't taste her near enough to satiate his hunger. His hands pushed beneath the fabric of her black undershirt, and she thought distantly of how rare it was for the two to even see one another free of their armor. Now, he pawed greedily at bare skin, the surprising warmth of his hands setting fires across her skin inch by inch. Slowly, painstakingly, his nails dragged down her spine, and she shuddered against him with a shameless moan.

"Jeritza…" Byleth breathed out, then moved away from him just slightly. Her touch ran down his arms to take his hands in hers, and she backed up to her bed. He followed with an unreadable expression as she pulled him down onto the mattress atop her. His longer fingers laced with hers, and he pressed her hands against the sheets on either side of her.

"You ask a monster to defile your bed."

"No," she said softly, holding his gaze, "I am asking you to make love to me, Jeritza."

He kissed her with hesitation that could almost be read as tenderness. Then, he released her hands from his grip and murmured,

"You are such a strange woman."

Both of his large, strong hands ran firmly along her sides, tracing and memorizing the curve in at her waist and out at her hips. Here, he pulled her against him, fitting himself flush between her thighs and slowly rocking his body into her. Byleth mewed happily at the feeling of his manhood, already hot and stiff, grinding between her lower lips. Even behind layers of clothing, he made clear the urgency of what she had awoken in him. His lips seized hers and his tongue pushed into her mouth, drawing her into another intense kiss that sent pleasure ringing through her. For the first time, Byleth willingly submitted to him. She let out her voice freely, moaning happily to him as his tongue circled and toyed with hers, knowing by now the effect these sounds had on him. His cock twitched, and he grinded it against her more firmly now.

"Aah-yess…!" Byleth breathed out through their kiss, spreading her legs further open for him and arching into his weight on top of her. Jeritza took the opportunity to slide one arm under the curve of her back, holding her to him.

His kiss began to wander, slowly at first, claiming her with teeth and tongue along her jaw until he reached her neck. Giving a muted growl, he bit around the flesh, marking her just high enough that she knew her collar wouldn't hide it. So be it- the way he made her ache, she would gladly brag to the entire army that he had shared her bed.

"So soft," he murmured, though she felt his words more than heard them, his breath skimming across over-sensitive skin, "I never knew you to be so yielding…" his free hand tugged up at her fitted black undershirt, managing to pull the tightly fitted fabric over her chest. Jeritza pushed up from her just enough to take in the sight, his eyes scanning her large breasts as though he had never before realized she had them. His hand fought to keep her snug clothing out of his way, and eventually, he snarled,

"Remove this before I tear it off of you."

Byleth bit her lower lip. There was no way he could know how his low, rumbling command aroused her. She obeyed, pulling the shirt off and tossing it to the floor. His hand cupped one of her breasts from the side, gently squeezing around its weight, then pushing it against its twin and up towards his waiting mouth. Jeritza trapped one nipple in his lips and the other between his fingers. Each stiffened in response while Byleth squirmed beneath him like a stretching kitten. Her head leaned back against her pillow and her hands wove through his hair, loosing it from the black tie at the nape of his neck to spill across her flushed torso. With a groan, he leaned into her, sucking and tugging at her nipples, stoking the fire at her core and coaxing lustful moans from her throat.

The tip of his tongue flicked against her, and she gasped, fists clenching reflexively around blonde locks. Since when were her breasts this sensitive? It then dawned on Byleth that she had not taken a single lover yet in this lifetime. In a way, she was a virgin, and her entire body responded as such. She felt starved for him, his every touch and every sensual pass of his lips and teeth building the ache between her thighs until it begged her for relief.

By the time he'd had his fill of her breasts, he left them kissed and bitten pink, heaving up and down with her panting breath. The lingering warmth of his saliva heightened the cold of the evening, causing a tingling sensitivity at her nipples. Jeritza's hands and lips moved in unison down her torso, his touch and his kiss firm enough to press into the soft, feminine curves that surrounded refined musculature. Byleth 's body was a wave moving in slow-motion, pushing up from the bed in time with the moment his lips met any given part of her. With another man, she may have tried harder to cling to composure; with Jeritza, she wanted him to know how she desired him, how open and bare she would be to him.

His teeth raked down from just below her navel to the hem of her shorts, sending shudders up her spine and forcing a pathetic whine through her nose.

"Jeritza, I… I don't think I can wait much longer-!" the words fumbled past her lips before she'd even realized the truth in them. He rose above her on all fours like a prowling beast and leveled his gaze on her. She hoped that he would find all of the certainty he needed in her eyes when they met his.

"Byleth…" he mouthed her name and reached for her with a strangely gentle hand, grazing his fingertips along her cheek. She tilted her head into his touch and whispered,

"Please?"

He took a breath, his jaw tight. Then, moving quickly, if a bit awkwardly, he stood beside the bed to work on undressing. Byleth followed suit, kicking off boots, tights and shorts into a messy heap on the floor, only pausing once or twice to sneak a glimpse at Jeritza as he revealed his body to her. He was stunning, a shimmering ghost in the moonlight filtered through her windows- or, no, perhaps more like alabaster than any spirit. His frame was solid, powerful yet graceful and fluid, his fair skin punctuated by gnarled scars. Naturally, she glanced downward, and stifled a groan at the sight of him fully erect for her, evidently every bit as eager as she. From her brief assessment under partial moonlight, his manhood looked thick and veined, and occasionally throbbed as Jeritza finished freeing himself from his clothing.

It wasn't until he rounded on her once more that Byleth realized she'd been chewing into her lip at the sight of him. As he crawled atop her, she felt little points of friction between them; fingertips at her wrist, hips between her thighs, feet brushing her own. For some reason, his warmth surprised her. Why had she ever thought his body would be less warm than any other?

His hand gripped her thigh tight, either out of habit or nerves, and for a moment he merely observed her lying beneath him. His eyes narrowed into something like a glare. Byleth gently combed his hair behind his ear.

"It would be easy to kill me right now, wouldn't it?" she said with a grin better suited to an inside joke between friends. Still, it seemed she had read his mind. He grimaced, though his body drew closer, his hand trailing down between her legs.

"Perhaps." he replied, then drew close and kissed her deeply. She could still taste the lingering flavor of ice cream along his tongue. Wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, her legs nudged him toward her from behind. He parted from her lips to focus on aligning himself with her entrance, the slightest touch of his cockhead near her soaked warmth making her whimper impatiently.

Finally, he pushed into her just a little, the tip held tight inside of her, then paused. Byleth uttered a pleading moan, her voice and body both begging him for more. His eyes locked with hers, and he gradually thrust deeper and deeper until his hips held flush to her body. Jeritza watched her head lean back and her chest rise as she breathed in. He filled her completely, his girth spreading and stretching her, the sensation both a little painful and intensely pleasurable.

"Ohh… Mm…" Byleth did her best to shift her lower body to the best angle for him as he began to thrust against her, his rhythm slow but insistant. With each push, he hit her core, massaging into her and rubbing the contours of his rock-hard cock against her inner walls. She wore a dazed smile, though her nails had begun to dig into his back, leaving reddened lines across his pale skin.

"You feel so good-!" she sighed out before her voice melted into incoherent moans. At long last, she felt him lean against her and let out an unrestrained groan of pleasure at her throat as he nipped the vulnerable skin. He bucked his hips into her more forcefully now, his body pressing her down into the mattress. All the while, he left heated marks along her neck and shoulders, growling against her flesh in response to her high whimpers and sighs.

Through her hazy thoughts, Byleth heard his low voice along her jawline,

"Incredible…" he thrust into her, the tip sending a jolt up her spine, "to enter your body- to feel you squirm and cry before me..."

Goddess, the pressure was amazing, and she ached for him as he continued to ravage her now dripping wet pussy. Her juices coated his shaft, allowing him to fuck her as hard as he liked, despite how tight she was around him. She would probably cum soon, and she welcomed it, holding onto his strong arms as he pounded into her, deep and steady. Then, Byleth's misted eyes reached Jeritza's face, and she saw something strange in his expression.

"You're so helpless," he snarled through gritted teeth. His length throbbed inside of her, and she moaned aloud, feeling her climax already building, "Yeeess-! Scream for me!"

"Jeritza…!" she gasped out, and lifted a hand to his cheek. The pleasure was dizzying- truly, Byleth didn't mind being roughly handled in bed, and she was more than happy to surrender to his powerful, harsh treatment. Yet beyond her fogged senses, she knew his mind was slipping. The steel edge creeping into his gaze wasn't one of sensual conquest, but of aggression. Her thighs hugged around his body, and she fondly caressed his jawline. Mustering her strength, she managed, "C-come back to me, Jeritza… it's… it's okay-"

His brow furrowed, first in confusion, then something else that she couldn't quite read. His hips slowed somewhat, though they never stopped grinding himself along her inner walls.

"That's it… stay here with me… mmm-!" she pulled him down into a tender kiss, and she felt something in his shoulders relax. When they parted, he rested his forehead against hers, panting through his continued thrusts. She smiled weakly, and whispered, "It feels so good, I… I want you to feel it with me. I want you, Jeritza."

"Byleth," he groaned out her name, and something about the tremor in his voice told her he was back, "Did I.. hurt you?"

What an odd man. Her smile warmed, and she held his face in her hands.

"No, you didn't- it… felt really good, actually," she pressed her lips to his, giving his bottom lip a slight tug between her teeth as they parted, "Have me as hard as you want, Jeritza. I can take it, as long as it's with you."

Byleth felt a soft rumble in his chest at this. Without a word, he hooked his hand under her knee and lifted one leg upward, spreading her thighs wider for him. The thick head of his cock dragged along an incredibly sensitive spot behind her clit with every sensual push of his hips, and in this new position, he hit deeper inside of her than ever. She cried out for him, face flushed red as her body arched up against his firm torso. His pace quickened, but his eyes were sober and present, if tinted with his own aching pleasure.

His free hand found the headboard of her bed and clung to it. Looming over her, he used this leverage to pound into her once, then again, gradually building into a rhythm that made her shake and tremble with each thrust. Before long, her knuckles were pale from clutching the pillow behind her, and her thighs shook around Jeritza's shifting hips. She attempted his name, but only managed to mouth the syllables around pathetic gasps and whimpers. Byleth wasn't sure how long she endured this; however long she lasted, it was only out of her desire to feel more, to savor him fucking her against the bed and stretching her warmth around him. Soon enough however, her breath caught in her throat, and she felt her muscles tense in anticipation. Jeritza's eyes scorched her as he watched her begin to come undone, transfixed by the sight of her basking in the pleasure he gave her. Finally, with a high whine, she let herself fall back onto the sheets, the tingling wave of her orgasm flooding her mind and body.

Jeritza whispered her name once more, even as he fucked her through the remainder of her climax. Byleth still shook, practically limp beneath him, but he was more than strong enough to position her how he liked. Yet, there was a strange reverence to his touch as he lifted both of her legs up to rest the back of her knees on his shoulders. Once satisfied she was comfortably in place, he leaned forward, the tension in her muscles causing her lower body to tighten and squeeze around him. The pair let out identical pleasured moans, and Byleth felt his manhood twitch inside of her, rubbing along a whole host of new sensitive spots.

He thrust into her with renewed force and urgency, and Byleth had to brace her hands against the headboard just to keep herself in place for him. Jeritza gripped her tightly by the curve of her hips, slamming into her as far as he could reach and sending shocks of pain and pleasure radiating through her. By now, she could feel the heat of his body, tensed and damp with sweat and her own fluids. His member swelled out within her, leaving her gasping desperately, eagerly awaiting his climax. Some mumbled mess of "yes!" and "more!" spilled from her lips. Her body felt weak, completely at his mercy, but in her surrender, she was absolutely giddy with pleasure.

A hand reached down to her cheek and urged her to meet his eyes. There was something new in them now- not the Death Knight's shadow, but a spark.

"If you don't… tell me to stop, I- I'm going to-"

"Yes-!" Byleth cried out, chest burning and head spinning, "Please! I…I want it, Jeritza…!"

With a long, lustful moan, Jeritza leaned forward and held himself in her to his base, grinding hard against her insides. The first spurt of his cum sent a shock of heat to her core and pulled a high whine from her throat; after this, Byleth could only pant and whimper helplessly for him as he filled her. His cock pulsed and throbbed with each wave of warmth that he emptied into her, and she couldn't help trembling around him in response. Through the dizzying pleasure, she heard his voice, low and luxurious, and so much sweeter than she'd ever dreamed possible, groaning her name amidst incoherent praises.

Breath ragged, chest pounding, his shoulders slacked, and he carefully eased his spent manhood out of her. Byleth let out a happy sigh and lowered her legs around him, revelling in the dull ache through her muscles and the thick, heavy feeling of his cum inside of her. She felt so wonderfully used up, so full, and she couldn't help a content smile, meeting Jeritza's weary eyes as he observed his handiwork. Frankly, he looked a little lost. It was a disarmingly adorable look on him.

Byleth ran a lazy hand up his arm and pulled at him, urging him down onto the bed beside her. Unusually compliant, he settled into her arms and her against him by the waist. It occurred to her that they ought to clean up, but the thought of separating herself from him was thoroughly unpersuasive- especially when she couldn't be sure when he would next allow himself to be so warm and so soft. The two laid in a comfortable, intimate silence for some time as they each caught their breath. It was Jeritza who eventually spoke first,

"I… nearly let him take over."

"You didn't, though," Byleth said softly, looking up to brush stray strands of blond behind his ear.

"Because of you. You… kept me here," he replied, brow creased with some strange mixed feeling, "Yet I cannot afford to think that the Death Knight will never overpower such efforts." Her lips tightened. She met his eyes firmly, saying,

"You know I can handle him."

"I do. Your strength is the only reason I have dared to be near you." with these words, Jeritza traced her bottom lip with his index finger. Byleth sighed through her nose, and murmured,

"If there were something I could do…" she spoke more firmly as she went on, "I know you can't just 'get rid of' the Death Knight, but- but if you get restless, we can spar any time you want, or, I don't know, I could start calling you 'Emile' if it would help-"

"Don't." he said coarsely.

"I just thought… you know, since Mercedes and Constance always do, then maybe…" she trailed off, unsure of where her thoughts had even been headed. Jeritza watched her with an even, steady gaze, combing calloused fingers through her hair with a tenderness that only barely reached his voice,

"They knew me as Emile once, and so if the name gives them some measure of comfort, then so be it," his hand moved to lift her chin toward him, "But on the day we first sparred, you called me 'Jeritza.' And it was 'Jeritza' that you cried out in pleasure tonight."

Overcome with a fluttering sensation in her chest, Byleth leaned into him and pressed her lips to his. Some part of her was relieved when he kissed her back. As they parted, Byleth saw just a hint of her own smile reflected in his expression. 

Byleth had hoped to give Jeritza time before introducing the idea of living multiple lives. It seemed more charitable to allow him to first process the thought that she had fallen in love with him. Alas, it seemed that concept may never fully solidify in his pained and fractured mind. Ultimately, she had to accept that, while he may never be able to truly understand or even agree with her reasoning- if love can indeed be called reasonable at all -he did, at least, believe her, and acknowledged his own feelings in return.

When she finally brought up her repeating lifecycle, it was as a hypothetical, and with none of the careful timing and planning she'd hoped for. In truth, she'd merely lost her patience.

"Okay, fine, so you lose control and the Death Knight kills me- what if I, I dunno, reincarnate or something, and I just start my life at Garreg Mach all over again? If I have another life after this one, does it even matter if you kill me?!"

Perhaps because of her own sloppy delivery, it had taken some prodding to get Jeritza to even consider the idea. Admittedly, from his perspective, it must have seemed random and utterly irrelevant. He'd called it "absurd conjecture," at first, dismissing the rationalization of morbid actions by "pretty philosophy." Byleth had to remind herself that, were she not in her exact circumstances, she would have agreed with him. Before long, she was ready to give up

on the topic, but she just barely sensed something in his expression that gave her pause.

"... Jeritza?"

"If you should find yourself in another life," he said, pointedly avoiding her gaze, "Promise me that you would spend it with someone who could be worthy of your affections."

Byleth held in a sad sigh, and carefully kept her expression neutral. She took his hand in hers and said,

"Oh, so… you again?" of all things, Jeritza looked irritated by this reply, and she laughed over his attempt to object, "That seems pretty greedy of you- but, I"ll consider it. Afterall, I do like being with someone who can keep up with me." She pulled him to her and stood on her toes, though he still needed to lean forward so she could place a brief kiss on his lips. He let out his breath when they parted, the sound both exasperated and content.

"You truly are a strange woman."


	6. Reprieve - Sylvain

_Well, can't blame me for trying._

Byleth rested her head in her hands, elbows on her desk. The frustration she felt was too tangible, too viscous to be expelled with a sigh. She stared blankly down at notes on parchment that would be incoherent to anyone else- names and events of the past, present, and future. Her best options had been scribbled out, and the ones remaining seemed bleak.

To think, she had thought it could be so simple. Just get Edelgard and Seteth to talk, even once. They had nearly identical beliefs regarding Crests and nobility, and were both intelligent and even-headed, for the most part. Even accounting for Rhea's angle, the two could enact immense societal change and potentially avert the entire war in the process. Edelgard's ambition paired with Seteth's position of religious and cultural importance seemed like an infallible play. Byleth had simply lost sight of one thing: she was the only person who understood all of these factors, and her endless stream of cycling lives was the only reason she had such perspective to begin with. Both of the key parties in this strategy were too private, too guarded to move as willing chess pieces outside of the neat checkered board of the battlefield.

She filed this lifetime among a long line of prior failures parading through her memory.

"Sorry, dad…" she muttered to the desk in the silence of her room, "I can't save you, and I can't save Fodlan, either. Not from this."

Not with lifetimes upon lifetimes of planning. Not with Claude's schemes, or Linhardt's intellect. Not with Ashe or Ingrid's ideals, or with Lorenz or Ferdinand's politics. She had tried it all, and more. There were too many lit fuses, already burning short by the time Byleth took her first step onto Garreg Mach's campus. Now, once again, she was mere months into her part in the inevitable war, and already falling back into her old patterns. Strategy briefings, hours and hours of training, lectures, seminars, and so much marching. All a tidy frame around paintings of brutality.

"Professor, you around?"

A knock on her door shook Byleth from her melancholy stupor for the time being. She rubbed strained eyes and attempted to speak evenly,

"It's unlocked- come on in."

Sylvain stepped in, leaving the door open to allow a gentle breeze of fresh air to filter into her bedroom. The afternoon light suited him, forming a shimmering halo along the mess of fiery hair and broad, handsome shoulders. Even Byleth, composed as she tended to be around men, couldn't help but appreciate the view just a little. Still, the ache around her eyes punctured the smile that had barely crept onto her lips.

"Hey Byleth, radiant as ever, I see," he greeted her with the usual wink and boyish smile, somehow unaged over five years, "It's my turn to head into town for supplies, and I was wondering if you'd like to take a little walk with me, get some fresh air." Sylvain paused, squinting slightly as his eyes adjusted to the dimmed light inside. He stepped forward, his hand twitched up from his side, but he left it hovering lamely between them.

"Byleth, are you…?"

"Hm?"

Her posture straightened, and she easily donned her usual mask of neutrality.

"Something the matter?" she asked, voice carefully regulated. Byleth was confident in her performance, and Sylvain's lighthearted grin was back in place, but the split second delay before his reply told her clearly that he knew something was on her mind. Fortunately, it seemed he didn't intend to pry.

"No, nothing," he shrugged, "anyway, how about it?"

With a quick glance at her notes, she exhaled from her nose and got to her feet.

"Sure, yeah, I could use a walk. But answer me this," she added with a smirk as she headed for the door, "What's your angle? Are we going to 'conveniently' pass by your favorite tea shop? Or happen upon some flowers that 'pale in comparison to my beauty'?"

Sylvain gave a good hearted laugh as they stepped out into the temperate early afternoon together.

"Alas! It seems you've discovered every last one of my insidious tricks," he said with all of melodrama he could muster. Byleth let out a short snort of laughter at this, and he went on, "I won't deny, it did occur to me that being seen with someone known to be both gorgeous and capable would make me look pretty good to the girls in town. You know how it is- I look desirable by association."

"Aaah, very clever." she replied with a chuckle.

"I thought so," Sylvain said on their way out the gate, "But y'know, I don't think anyone would _really _believe a guy like me could land a woman like you."

"Hm. I'm not so sure."

"What's that?" he turned to her with brows raised.

"Nothing, nothing- what do we need to pick up in town?"

By the time the pair arrived back at Garreg Mach, arms over-full with provisions, it was nearly dinner hour. It had been a surprisingly pleasant trip for Byleth. Sylvain's teasing and flirting, far from the nuisance many saw it to be, was an entertaining diversion to her. Whether it was a cheeky wink at the new shopgirl at a flower stall, or an overly reverent bow any time he let Byleth walk in front of him, he made quite a show of his light-hearted charms. Throw in a hilariously on-point impersonation of Felix, a few anecdotes of being scolded by Ingrid, and soon enough Byleth's mood had lifted despite herself.

She accompanied Sylvain to drop off the purchased supplies where they were needed, making lively conversation all the while.

"-so THEN it turns out, it actually wasn't her sister, it was her brother! And so of course, I explain, well the heart wants what it wants," he sighed and shook his head, shelving the last tin of tea they'd bought, "anyway, long story short, he ended up dueling Felix 'for my honor,' and you can imagine how well that went."

"Oh no, I bet he was furious. Did the other guy survive?"

"Barely." They laughed together for a moment, and Byleth distantly wondered how long it had been since she felt so light.

Sylvain walked with her back to her quarters, chatting idly as they passed their companions on their way to the dining hall. Upon reaching her room, Byleth opened the door, but paused half way through.  
"Hey, Sylvain?" she turned to meet his eyes, and managed a true and earnest smile, "thank you for today. It was… really fun."

Sylvain's own grin created adorable creases at the corners of his eyes- eyes that glowed amber as late afternoon shifted to twilight.

"There it is," he said, his voice lower and somehow more natural, "That smile of yours- a real one, too. I was starting to miss it, you know." his arms crossed and he leaned against the doorframe to watch her. Then, Byleth found herself speaking without thinking,

"Do you ever get- I dunno, tired? Of… of this whole cycle?"

His brow lowered.

"Not sure I follow."

"The whole 'girl' thing, you know? Isn't it eventually all just the same?" she asked, an odd tremor in her voice, "I mean, we've talked, I know you have mixed feelings about women, given your situation, but… don't you just get sick going through the motions again and again?"

Briefly, it seemed he was at a loss- though not for long. The smirk returned, and he leaned over her, leading a rogue fingertip along her jawline

"Now now, 'Professor,' don't talk like that or you'll make me think you've fallen for me."

"Sylvain." it took all of her willpower to push his hand away from her, locking her gaze with his. He sighed and ran the same hand through his hair.

"Fine, fine. I guess, other than the stuff you already know… part of me wonders if eventually, one will be different. Can't blame me for trying, right?"

Byleth's jaw tightened.

"And if, eventually, you find someone who is different? Then what?"

She couldn't describe or analyze what she saw in his expression now. It was always like that when he was left without his script. Maybe Byleth wasn't ready to admit it in full, but she sought out moments like this with him. Moments when, for better or worse, he was honest. The mask would be back on soon, but she wasn't going to let it keep her away this time.

Standing on her toes, her fists tugged at the front of Sylvain's shirt, and she kissed him. He shifted towards her. His hands held onto the door frame on either side around him, his body and the dark of her bedroom shielding her from prying eyes outside. His head tilted to the side, and he leaned forward, pressing more firmly against her and deepening the kiss. The breath through his nose was heavy and warm, and Byleth only barely managed to keep the moans in her throat silent. Maybe she should have guessed that he would be an excellent kisser, but she hadn't expected to feel the rhythm in his chest pounding so hard beneath her hands.

They lingered for some time before parting just enough for Byleth to murmur,

"Now what, Sylvain?"

"Sylvain! Are you bugging the Professor again?"

The two lurched apart at the sound of Ingrid calling out from behind him. Byleth saw his chest rise as he caught his breath.

"We're getting dinner," they heard Felix's voice next, "Hurry up- we're not waiting for you."

"I'll, uh, be right there!" Sylvain called over his shoulder. He turned back to Byleth, opened his mouth, then closed it without a word. With an awkward half smile, she said,

"Go on ahead. Just... let me know when you figure it out."

Byleth wasn't certain what she expected things to be like moving forward, but she certainly hadn't expected them to be entirely normal. Yet here she was, gathering reference books and diagrams into neat piles in the aftermath of the week's initial strategy meeting. For all of her usual stoicism, she had been paying especially close attention to Sylvain's behavior, even at the cost of being more than a little distracted during briefings. In the end, she was forced to acknowledge that she had nothing of note to take from her observations. By all accounts, he was the same as ever- a flirting, charming fool with more of value to offer than he would ever let on.

Her comrades filed toward the door of the war room to go about their tasks, training and so on, trading final thoughts and smalltalk on their way out. Maybe it was petty of her, but Byleth made sure to meet Sylvain's eyes on his way past her. He gave an easy smile and a wave, saying,

"Thanks, professor, see you around, yeah?"

"Yeah."

She held in a sigh, and with more difficulty, the urge to roll her eyes, and stiffly went about cleaning up the rest of the room. Pushing in chairs and picking up stray notes on parchment, she couldn't help but overhear a conversation just beyond the door. It started with a young lady's voice cooing Sylvain's name, like so many had before, and him replying pleasantly enough. When spoken, Byleth recognized her name as belonging to one of the monastery guards. Their business was hardly her own, but despite herself, she heard the woman say,

"So, any plans tonight? You must be exhausted from all these dull meetings- why don't you join me in town for a bit?"  
Now that she was alone, Byleth allowed herself to roll her eyes.

"Oh, well that's, uh. It's really sweet of you, honestly, but I'm gonna have to hang back tonight. Sorry."

Had she heard right? She froze with a hand hovering over a forgotten quill, all of her focus on the conversation she'd failed to convince herself to ignore.

"Aww, that's too bad. Are you sure I can't persuade you?"  
"Hey now, you know I hate to see a cutie like you pout," Sylvain's voice was at ease, casual and untouched, "A catch like you could spend the night with any guy you liked, so chin up. I'm just… pretty occupied these days. Be seeing you around, yeah?"

As the pair muttered their goodbyes, Byleth remained stunned. Had she heard that right? She searched her memory, but could not recall ever witnessing Sylvain turn down an offer for a night out with pleasant company. Perhaps he wasn't as "normal" as she'd assumed. She had to talk to him.

As it turned out, she wouldn't have to wait long for her chance. That same evening, as Byleth made her rounds through the monastery, she poked her head into each of the old classrooms only to see a familiar mop of red hair in the Blue Lion's lecture hall. He seemed lost in thought, and a little restless, fidgeting with old dried out quills and burnt down candles as he let his legs aimlessly carry him through the room. Sylvain was strangely handsome like this, free of an audience and without the weight of his mask. Byleth felt her chest tighten, but she rallied her nerves and cleared her throat. He looked up with a start. Letting the heavy oak door shut behind her, she approached with arms crossed tightly.

"So," his former professor began, "this is what you had going on tonight that was worth turning down a date?" If he was surprised when she brought this up, he didn't show it. One corner of his mouth quirked up a bit sheepishly.

"Would you believe me if I said yes?"

By the time she reached where he stood in front of the familiar chalkboard, her posture had only drawn inward more tightly. He spun a piece of chalk between his fingers and refused to meet her gaze. Byleth let her eyes wander and soon enough found them fixated on orange hair softly teasing around his neck and impeccable cheekbones. His grin turned bittersweet as she watched, and he let out a sort of half-laugh, half-sigh.

"Sure brings back memories, doesn't it."

Byleth muttered in agreement, giving the dusty classroom a sweeping look while Sylvain carelessly tossed the chalk back onto her old desk. She could practically see her students, five years younger and five years happier, busy with schoolwork on which no one's life depended. Of course, even then, she had known the struggle that awaited them all too well.

"C'mon, don't look like that," Sylvain said as she turned back to him. He still did not face her completely, but he dared to raise his hand and brush loose strands of light green behind her ear. "You know," he paused and withdrew his hand, ruffling it through his own hair, "I had a hell of a crush on you back then. But you probably knew that already, huh."

"You don't say." Byleth replied, fixing her expression into a confident smirk despite the blush burning across her cheeks, "If anything, you flirted with me more then than you do now." They shared a short laugh, the echoes strangely distorted in the empty hall. Finally, he faced her. The feeling of his fingertips brushing her hand as he stepped toward her sent a jolt through her chest.

"Well, back then, I knew I didn't have a chance with you. Not really." he said softly. Byleth found herself leaning close as he spoke and his touch trailed up her arm, "So… I didn't have to risk screwing it all up."

Sylvain cradled her face gently as though he may shatter her. She placed her hand over his and said,

"I trust you."

His lips finally met hers, tentative at first, and surprisingly soft. The calloused pad of his thumb caressed along her cheekbone as his fingers combed into her hair and he pressed delicate kisses to her mouth. His movements were somehow both cautious and deeply sensual. Her hands rested on his chest, warm and firm, yet thudding with his erratic heartbeat while each effortlessly pleasurable kiss awaited her permission to seek more. Byleth was happy to give it. Leaning against his body, she tilted her head into their kiss and pushed her tongue along the crease of his lips. Sylvain drew in a sharp breath, though he gladly opened to her, his tongue playing with hers as his free arm drew tightly around her waist. She smiled into him; she hadn't expected it to be so easy to get under his skin, but she certainly enjoyed it.

Her hands flexed around the fabric of his shirt, dragging fingernails along his chest. Sylvain groaned and gave one more slow, deep kiss before pulling away just enough to murmur,

"I feel like… this is something I'm never gonna recover from."

"Should we stop?" Byleth whispered in the miniscule space between them.

"No," he said, "_Goddess_, no."

"Then stop holding back."

She barely got the words out before Sylvain's lips were on hers again, now with firm, confident motions that sent arousal burning through her body. The subtle hint of cologne complimented and mingled with his natural scent and whatever he used to clean his hair; it was an indescribable, unique mixture that Byleth simply couldn't get enough of. That scent bypassed whatever restraint she may have clung to, compounding her need for him, drawing her into him. Her hands ran flat up over his hard chest, taking the time to appreciate well-sculpted muscle beneath his shirt. By the time her fingers grazed his neck and jawline, then tangled into his hair, he'd backed her against the nearest desk.

Byleth moaned, low and heavy as Sylvain's tongue toyed with hers and his hands began to wander. She had never considered how large and strong those hands were until they were hungrily exploring her body. One enjoyed the weight of her backside, grabbing a greedy handful and pulling her more firmly against him; the other examined the curve of her hips, tight core muscles, even pressed along the outer contour of her breasts.

The moment his kiss began to wander down her jawline, Byleth couldn't help whimpering his name, fingernails raking through his hair. He was silent, but she felt him swallow hard and exhale a heated breath along the wonderfully sensitive skin of her neck. She gasped as his teeth grazed her earlobe, then bit down here, then up along the shell, back down to her neck, each new sensation building the tension winding hot in her lower body.

"So, no more holding back, right?" he whispered against the crook of her neck. Before she managed any more than an encouraging moan, his arms wrapped under her bottom and lifted her up. With a laugh, she flung her arms around his broad shoulders to steady herself as he carried her around the desk. He sat on the bench with her straddled across his lap, and Byleth absently mused that it was likely he'd been in this same seat as her student at least once in the past. She didn't dwell on this for long- both of his hands pulled her against him by the hips, and immediately she noticed the stiff heat of his arousal rubbing between her legs. Byleth clutched his shirt in her fists. Their kiss turned somehow even more heated, more erotic as Sylvain tugged her lower lip between his teeth. She instinctively began to grind onto him, working the length of his hardened manhood between her lower lips in an attempt to relieve any of the built up arousal she felt despite the barrier of clothing.

Perhaps a bit impatient, Byleth fussed with the buttons of his shirt, opening the front to admire his body as each inch was bared to her. Both of his hands came to rest along the sides of her face, long fingers spread into fair green hair. He pulled away just slightly, and when she met his gaze, she was taken aback by the intensity of what she saw in it,

"Are you _sure _you want this? With… With me?" he said, voice awkward and stiff. Byleth's brow lowered, and he went on, "I mean… money, status, a crest? You don't need anything from me. What do I have to offer you that you'd even want?"

Byleth smiled, then sighed. What a bizarre man- asking such a question with his lips kissed a flush pink and his shirt hanging around a torso marked by her fingernails.

"Idiot. You really are determined to screw this up, huh."

"Old habits and all," Sylvain said with a sheepish smile of his own, though he still held her close. Byleth rested her forehead on his and brought a gentle hand to his cheek.

"Is it really that hard for you to believe that I enjoy being around you?"

"It just seems… too good to be true," he murmured, granting her another soft and wonderfully tender kiss. To his surprise, she hummed lightly and pulled away from him.

"I'll just have to convince you, then."

He looked about to question her, but fell silent as he watched Byleth lower onto her knees before him. His eyebrows rose, and she had to hold in a chuckle. It was such a charming, innocent expression on him, full of blatant want and a touch of lingering disbelief. Firm but slow, she ran her hands along the inside of his thighs, then up his hips to the hem of his pants. Whether the gratuitous touch would soothe him or merely heighten his excitement, she wasn't sure- either would be enjoyable in its own right. She certainly wasn't watching his expression anymore. Already, his cock was hard and straining up against his clothing, the sight alone flooding her body with arousal. Byleth made a show of biting her lip and moaning as she palmed the bulge between his legs, sliding a hand up to the head and then squeezing. Sylvain took a shuddering breath and leaned back with his elbows on the desk behind him, watching her with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Professor…" he whispered, more to himself than to Byleth. She leaned towards him and placed a coy kiss on the head of his cock from atop his clothes. A sound snuck from Sylvain's throat like a sigh and a groan, and his manhood twitched in her hand.

"You keep calling me that," she said playfully, even as she began to work on unfastening the front of his pants, "It's not like you never call me 'Byleth' these days."

His face was tinted pink, his very-kissed lips froze slightly parted. Finally, she freed his fully erect length, and when she spoke, she let her breath and lips lightly graze his sensitive flesh,

"Though, you did say that you had a schoolboy-crush on me…" Byleth let this thought trail away for a moment, focusing instead on tracing the ridge of Sylvain's cock with the very tip of her tongue.

"Man, you're a tease- mm!"

As he spoke, she wrapped her lips tight around him and slowly worked her way down. She savored the feeling of the tip dragging back along her tongue, then pushing into her throat as her lips reached his base. His body arched, his head tilted back as his breath panted up into the empty classroom. He was a good size, rock-hard and nicely curved. Byleth let a soft moan vibrate around him before pulling away just as gradually as she'd taken him in. Pausing to appreciate the sight, she chewed at her lip once more. His cock looked even better slick with her saliva.

She was grateful they had no armor to navigate between them, shrugging off her coat and starting work on her fitted black shirt. Sylvain's hungry stare burned into her all the while, and she thought she heard a whine caught in his throat as her breasts fell free of her clothing with a pleasant bounce.

"Mr. Gautier," she said sweetly, "Is it possible that my troublesome student harbored lewd fantasies about me back then? Tell the truth."

"I… may have let my mind wander during lectures once or twice." he said, voice weighted with lust. Byleth shifted closer to him, still on her knees between his thighs, and fixed her posture to position her breasts around his hard shaft. "Oh, _Goddess_." Sylvain groaned shamelessly. His hips moved on instinct, bucking slightly upward and pushing his member deep into her cleavage. Byleth wore a wolfish grin, and squeezed his cock more firmly against her body, rubbing his full length with soft, bouncing flesh. Amber eyes glazed over with arousal, he watched every motion; he took in how she stared openly and hungrily at his manhood, how her hands cupped the outer curves of her chest and how those plump breasts pushed back into her palms, how she occasionally held back a whimper by nibbling at her lip. With a half-lidded gaze and a complexion redder than his hair, he spoke softly,

"Yessss, professor…" Once more, his hips pushed against her, pressing the bulging head of his cock along her body, burrowed in her slickened cleavage, "I used to… to imagine this. Watching you play with those huge breasts around my cock- ngh!" Sylvain bared his teeth and his length throbbed, as Byleth flicked the tip of her tongue along the very top of his crown. Already, she tasted pre-cum. Though in truth, she could feel the tense, urgent arousal between her thighs and knew she must be soaked as well. Such erotic words spoken with his voice low and rumbling in his chest near intoxicated her.

"How scandalous," she teased, "What else did you imagine, I wonder?"

"Everything- anything." Sylvain said, then paused to swallow and catch his breath before elaborating, "Even back then, I- I knew that… if I ever got a chance with you, I'd do any- anything to please you, Byleth." He lowered an adoring hand to comb along her jaw and into her hair, "If you wanted to tie me up, punish me and use me, I'd be obedient. If you wanted me to pin you down, claim you and ravish you, I would and then some. But…" Sylvain groaned as Byleth took the head of his cock between her lips and rubbed her tongue in lavish circles around it, still squeezing her breasts tight around him. His lips hung open and for a moment, all he could do was pant for breath and stare down at her, utterly hypnotized. Finally, he managed, "most… mostly I just imagined… having you right here, across my desk- until your legs shook and you screamed my name…" his voice trailed off into moaned sigh. While the tempting content of his confession drew most of Byleth's focus, she couldn't help noticing the naturally erotic way his body moved; even merely chasing his own pleasure between her breasts, his hips pushed and swayed in a way that teased her imagination. A little whine of anticipation snuck from her throat, and when she finally met those charming brown eyes once more, her own held an unmistakable fire.

Her pace slowed, giving Sylvain a moment to compose himself, then she eased away from his twitching length. With hands on the bench on either side of his lap, she got to her feet leaning over him and kissed him deeply. The redhead uttered a shamelessly sensual moan against her lips that only made Byleth all the more eager for what was to come. And there was that scent again- masculine, but not overly musky, and so very addictive. Eventually, she parted from him just enough to whisper,

"I hope you plan to make good on that," fingertips lightly traced a line down the center of his muscled torso, raising goosebumps and coaxing his body into arching toward her, "you know… the 'fucking me 'till I scream' part."

Sylvain breathed in deeply. His gaze flickered to her lips, then back up, and he said,

"Get on the desk."

Byleth quirked an eyebrow at the brusk demand, but the urgency in his eyes compelled her to comply. She got to her feet, then pushed herself up to sit atop the desk. Sylvain followed, coming to stand between her legs and wordlessly pulling her against him and into a slow, deep kiss. His hand ran firm along the outer curve of her thigh, openly adoring her body as she began to wander from the corner of his lips, to his jawline and down his neck. Her fingernails dragged through messy orange hair and he murmured her name through clenched teeth as Byleth pressed luxurious open-mouthed kisses from his adams-apple, down to his collarbones. She felt the groan trembling in his throat as she bit down around smooth skin and swollen muscle at the top of his chest. Pulling away for a moment, she gave a short laugh and poked at the reddened mark she'd unwittingly left behind.

"Sorry about that."

Sylvain scoffed.

"I can handle much rougher than that." he said, even as he gently lowered her down onto her back beneath him.

"Well…" vibrant green eyes met him with an unreadable expression, "I just don't think the next girl will appreciate seeing it." The smile he gave her was warm, yet somehow just a little shy.

"What 'next girl?'"

Byleth chewed at her bottom lip, then tugged him down to her by the shirt hanging from his shoulders. His forearms rested on the hardwood on either side of her, trapping her amidst his warmth, his scent, and his skillfully sensual kisses. As she had done moments prior, he began to travel along her jawline, stopping to nip her ear playfully between his teeth before giving similar treatment to the sweetly sensitive skin along her neck.

"Mmm, Sylvain…" she sighed happily, instinctively squeezing her thighs around him. He seemed to be revelling in their foreplay, taking his time with heated bites and kisses across the substantial swell of her breasts before taking one of her hardened nipples between his lips. Byleth's body tensed, arching up to meet him. The sensation riled her all over again, sending pleasure tingling through her core as he mercilessly nipped and sucked her tender flesh. Just when she was ready to beg him for more immediate relief, she noticed him pulling at her boots, which she kicked off with a small chuckle. He moved on to her shorts, dragging them from her hips and caressing her legs all the way down. With her tights and underwear, he slowed his pace considerably. Byleth watched curiously and realized that his gaze was fixed on the point where the clingy fabric squeezed around her as he removed them. Perhaps this, too, was a moment he'd harbored in his fantasies for some time.

Yet before he removed the last of her clothing completely, he paused, leaving the tights and undergarments constricting her legs just above the knee. Wearing a devilish smirk, he lifted her legs so they rested on his shoulder, and carefully aligned himself with her entrance.

"Mm-! Sylvain-" she couldn't help a laugh, "you're such a troublesome student."

"You've known that for years now, Professor." he replied. Before she even thought to respond, Byleth felt the head of his cock, warm and stiff, easing between her soaking wet lower lips. With a husky breath, he pushed his hardened member into her to the base all at once. Byleth's body trembled and she gasped out his name. The sudden intrusion made her body ache and her eyes blur. The wonderful upward curve of his erection and the contours of bulging veins along his shaft stimulated her in any number of surprising and electrifying ways. Though he began thrusting into her with a slow, if insistent pace, she was already sighing and whimpering beneath him. One arm held tight around her legs, keeping her steady as he bucked against her, his manhood burrowing into her tight heat again and again. Sylvain uttered a euphoric moan, then breathed in deeply, letting his eyes flutter shut as he continued to pound into her.  
"Damn, Byleth… you're so tight-! Mm-!"

With her legs bound by the remnants of her clothing, Byleth's thighs squeezed together, constricting her around him. All the while, Sylvain's expert movements thrust his thick member into her rhythmically, steadily massaging deep into her warmth. In some corner of her pleasure-dazed mind, she wondered at how beautiful he looked; hair messily tossed around his handsome features, sculpted muscles tensed and flexed with his body's fluid movements.

"Syl… Sylvain…" she spoke hardly above a whisper, "Sylvain, I'm- I'm gonna...!" She saw the corner of his lip curl into a wicked grin, then felt him pulse inside of her, stretching her aching pussy almost unbearably.

"Already…?" he teased, and his pace quickened, his thrusts harder, more aggressive, "You're already about to cum around your student's cock?" Sylvain leaned forward, forcing her lower muscles to clench more tightly around him, the back of her knees still propped on his shoulder. "Haa…" he groaned, "What… what a shameless professor… Mmm…!"

"Isnot… my fault you're so da- damn good at this!" the last few words tumbled from her lips just in time for Byleth to gasp, then softly whine as his cockhead dragged along a particularly sensitive spot. Her face flushed an adorable pink, her breasts bouncing in response to every snap of his hips, she lay helplessly beneath Sylvain as he brought her ever closer to relief. Gasping his name, she watched him with glazed and half-lidded eyes, until with a short whimper, she felt the tension come undone. She shivered, arching up from the desk and crying out for him as the incredible pressure inside of her sent shocks of pleasure up her spine. Her pussy was beyond soaked, her cum coating every inch of Sylvain's shaft and dripping lazily down her backside.

When her hazy smile met his expression, it was one she recognized from only a few minutes ago- the "too good to be true" expression. For all of his dirty talk and expertise, some part of him was still just a boy with a crush. It would have been an adorable realization if Byleth's mind weren't utterly consumed by the erotic swaying of his hips; he moved slower now on the tail end of her climax, but never fully let her rest.

"Damn, Byleth…" Sylvain murmured once again, pausing to place a soft kiss to the curve of her leg as it rested against him, "You're so cute when you cum… nngh…" His hold on her body tightened, and he leaned forward until the head of his cock hit her core. Byleth gave a barely audible gasp, squirming on the desk. Her lover bit at his lower lip, slowly shifting his body to grind his length hard against her insides. "Think you can handle a bit more? I'm not quite done showing my... appreciation for my caring instructor."

Byleth nodded, but before Sylvain resumed his firmer pace, she said,

"Sylvain..? I... I wanna kiss you, so- would you-?" she glanced at the tights binding her legs. Sylvain's broad, warm smile brought out those charming creases near his eyes. As gentle as his expression was, though, the ruthless way he set about removing the last of her clothing made her worry for the durability of the fabric. The moment he freed her legs, he guided them around his waist and bent over her. With his forearms on the desk on either side of her, he kissed her, his tongue playing along hers, effortlessly coaxing low, lustful moans from her throat as it massaged and explored her. All the while, his cock drove into her once more, his pace slower than before, but hard and plunging deep like a piston. He parted from her lips briefly- just long enough to say,

"You know I can't refuse a request like that. Not from you."

Byleth made no reply, but let both of her hands comb into his wild mane of hair and tug him down into another impassioned kiss. He held her close as his thrusts sent pleasure in dizzying waves through her nerves, each warmed by the erotic friction of one body against another. Sylvain had her practically pinned on the desk now, her breasts flush to his chest, her thighs clinging around him. He made no secret of his own pleasure, groaning and sighing amidst kisses that became less graceful and more hungry by the second. Gradually, his strong hands made their way down each deliciously curving inch of her body until they held fast to her hips. Meanwhile, he nipped at her lower lip, tugged at it playfully before releasing it with a sigh. His head sunk down beside her, and he only barely managed to speak between panting moans and adoring, open-mouthed kisses along her neck.

"You're… taking my cock so well, Professor." his voice was low, his breath hot just below her ear, "Mmm…. you feel even- even better than I imagined. You have no idea.. Nngh… how often I dreamed of fucking my gorgeous teacher across my desk."

"Syl...vain-!" Byleth breathed out his name as she felt his tongue trace the outer curve of her ear. These little added sensations- the way he touched and kissed her, stoking smaller fires across her body as he pounded her against the hardwood- it was too much for her scattered senses to take in. Every moment, his lips and teeth sent some new spark through her veins. All the while, she felt his hard length relentlessly bucking into her, hot and throbbing.

"Sylvain…!" she repeated breathlessly, arms draped across his shoulders, "I… I want to- to feel you cum!" her thighs trembled around him as he growled into the crook of her neck, "Cum for your teacher, Sylvain, puh-please! Mmm-!"

The raw, desperate moan he let out into the crook of her neck sent a shiver down her spine. Immediately, his pace quickened, though he sacrificed nothing of depth, slamming into her to the base again and again. Words failed Byleth entirely, and she merely clung to him as his climax mounted. Sylvain's grip tightened, nails likely to leave little reddened reminders of this tryst along in the curving flesh of her hips and thighs. Finally, she noticed his abdomen muscles clench, his hot breath panting frantically against her skin. He twitched and swelled inside of her, and all at once, she felt his heat spilling out into her waiting pussy. Groaning through gritted teeth, Sylvain's hands gripped onto her almost painfully tight as his cock pulsed with each wave of his powerful orgasm. Byleth lay limp on the cool wood below her as she accepted him, her body ever more warm and overfull and utterly satisfied.

Tired sighs and muffled, contented murmurs between kisses vanished in the expanse of the empty classroom as the pair basked in their shared afterglow. Carefully, Sylvain pulled his spent manhood from her folds, noting with a smirk that he'd made an absolute mess of the both of them. It wasn't until after a few quiet minutes of cleaning up with a spare handkerchief that he cleared his throat and said,

"I… hope that 'breathless whimpering' is an acceptable substitute for screaming. I made a promise, afterall."

"More than acceptable. Full marks," Byleth replied with a short laugh through her nose, "This probably isn't the best place for screaming anyway." She added, giving a pointed glance around the empty classroom. While her thighs still trembled and her throat still ached, Sylvain took both of her hands in his and pulled her upright and into a slow, gentle kiss. He kept surprising her; Byleth was going to have to get used to this new, tender side of him. A side he obscured with casual, flippant words, but was entirely obvious in the worshipful way he touched her and the softness of his lips on hers. They parted soon enough, but she leaned toward him, brushing the tip of her nose to his. With half-lidded eyes and a subtle smile, she said,

"You're not getting the 'student' treatment next time though. That's a kink that hits a little too close to home for frequent use."

"Next time, huh?" Sylvain repeated, his voice low and smooth, betraying a hint of the smile he wore to match hers, "Well, fair enough. There are plenty of other kinks to try out, right?"

Two years later, Byleth shoved open the door of their bedroom with a groan and dropped herself onto the bed. She heard her husband give a fond chuckle from across the room where he had been undressing for the night. Briefly she thought to playfully chide him for laughing at her, but soon she felt him tugging off her boots for her as she lay limp, and any thoughts of reprimanding him evaporated.

"Another long day, huh?" Sylvain said, tossing her shoes aside and brushing a gentle kiss to her leg above her tights.

"Just like all the others." Byleth sighed, though she gladly noted the dip of the mattress as he settled down beside her. She turned toward him to be met with outstretched arms that immediately drew her close. Letting out what felt like her first exhale in hours, she buried her face in his chest, seeking solace in his scent and his tight embrace. The pair indulged in silence until Byleth was inevitably ready to vent her frustrations- the egos of nobles and politicians, the mind numbing complexities of war relief funding, and so on. As always, Sylvain was surprisingly astute regarding such matters, but for the time being, he relegated himself to supporting her. Once it seemed she had expressed all she needed to, he deftly turned the conversation to more pleasant matters. Before long and much to his satisfaction, he'd even earned a genuine laugh.

"I don't know how you do it, Sylvain," Byleth said, twirling a lock of ginger hair around her fingertips, "This whole lifetime, whenever everything starts to get too heavy, you always know how to lighten things up for me."

Gently, he took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles, wearing that familiar disarming smile of his. When he replied, however, his tone was far more grounded than she'd expected,

"Y'know, uh, speaking of your lifetimes, I sort of had an idea."

"Oh?" Her eyebrows rose inquisitively, "I didn't think you spent much time considering the whole life cycle thing."

"I do, I just… don't like to bug you about it unless I think it'll help. Anyway," both settled comfortably on the pillows, Sylvain's arm draped around her waist, "about that idea of yours, to get Edelgard and Seteth to talk. If you time it right, I think you can convince Seteth to trust you enough after the whole kidnapping thing to open up a bit. But Edelgard- she keeps her cards close till her rebellion, right?"

Byleth nodded.

"Right, so, you need her to open up to you sooner than she's likely to. And I think you can use Linhardt for that. Think about it- she used to hound him all the time, but she's never been the kind of person to give her time to someone she doesn't value. She respects his intellect absolutely. So, you get Linhardt interested, maybe bait him with the crest-related parts of Edelgard's ideas, get them talking first, and bam: you're part of an intimate discussion with a trusted intellectual on your side before Seteth even has to get involved."

"... Huh." Byleth nodded again, slower this time, rolling the idea around in her head. It wasn't a bad idea. It needed refining; she knew from experience that directing Linhardt could be like herding one lanky, semi-conscious cat. Still, it was an angle she hadn't tried in any of her previous lives, and it had potential.

"Well, I need to consider it a bit, but it's certainly promising. Thank you." She added with a warm smile, "I didn't even realize you'd been putting so much thought into this. Would you mind if I ran those sorts of ideas by you in the future?" Byleth gave a short laugh with a roll of her eyes, "I don't know why I never did before- you're so good at reading people."

"You flatter me." Sylvain said with his best dramatic delivery. Then, after placing a sweetly tender kiss on her lips, he added, "but hey, if I can do anything for you, even in the next life, just ask."

Wearing a subtle grin, Byleth shifted herself closer to him, her hand along the side of his neck pulling him into another, deeper kiss. With a purring moan, she pressed her tongue past his lips, flirting gently with his own. After stealing a few moments to savor his taste, she barely parted from him.

"There is one thing you can help me with, love." She murmured into the smallest space between their lips. His arm flexed tight around her, and she could feel his smirk in his kiss, but the only reply he gave was a coy little hum. Then, he turned her onto her back, pinning her firmly between his body and their bed. At once, his teeth were at her neck, sending tingling electricity through her nerves.

"If that's what you need, darling," he whispered hot against her skin, "then I have a _lot _more ideas to share with you."


End file.
